




\1W 


ELIZABETH -LINCOLN- GOULD 





































% 







































































































“PLEASE, MAY I SIT WITH YOU?” 


Sell ci a 


.$v 


£ ti za£ et f) Xtncofn Gould 
* Author of “cfj ttU Jolly Aren t is s 
Jhe Admit a Is Granddaughter etc. 


Illustrate d by Josephine Jruce 



Tfie Penn Pu6 fishing Company 
Phifadetphia MGMVIH 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
l wo Conies rtecutxrf 

JUN 27 1903 



COPYRIGHT 
1908 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 






Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 


I. 

Felicia and Martin Arrive . 



7 

II. 

Blackberry Hill is Surprised 



19 

III. 

Felicia in Charge 



27 

IV. 

Early Morning Visitors 



37 

V. 

The Sewing Circle 



47 

VI. 

Peanut Cookies 



56 

VII. 

Mrs. Cope Smiles . 



63 

VIII. 

Tea With the Tophams 



76 

IX. 

Loreena Parks 



85 

X. 

An Outing With Bobby 



92 

XI. 

A Ticket to Harlowville 



101 

XII. 

An Out-of-Doors Person 



no 

XIII. 

A Lesson for Martin . 



11 7 

XIV. 

Visiting a Hermit 



125 

XV. 

Felicia Has Company . 



J 35 

XVI. 

An Afternoon With Jenkins 



144 

XVII. 

The Helpful Brigade . 



154 

XVIII. 

Mrs. Cope's Best Curtains . 



164 

XIX. 

A Bit of Blue Sky 



173 

XX. 

No Place Like Home . 



185 


3 




















































% 


Illustrations 


“ Please, May I Sit With You? 

“ You Are the Most Wonderful Bird ” 
The Minister Praised Her Skill 
The Frown Cleared From Her Face . 
At Last It Gave Way . 


Frontispiece * 

• 45 v' 

. . 76 ./ 

. Ill 
171 


Felicia 


5 



FELICIA 


CHAPTER I 

FELICIA AND MARTIN ARRIVE 

The crowd in the great city railway station was 
growing denser with every moment, when Mrs. Top- 
ham, her arms full of bundles, panted in at the central 
door, closely followed by Mrs. Lewis, the old neighbor 
with whom she had been spending a week. 

“ How are we ever going to work our way through 
all these folks ? ” asked Mrs. Topham anxiously. “ And 
where’s my train ? And how much time is there left ? ” 
“Don’t you fret,” said her friend, grasping Mrs. 
Topham’s elbow and piloting her along past several 
sign-boards till they reached one before which she 
came to a halt. “ ‘ Crayton, Rock Bottom, Ham- 
mersby, Barker’s Mills, Green Junction,”’ she read 
from the board ; “ that’s your place, isn’t it ? ” 

“ It’s where I change, of course, Mary Lizzie,” said 
Mrs. Topham. “ Doesn’t seem as if you could have 
forgotten in fifteen years — but there ! ’twas called 
Sawyer’s then — I’ll forgive you.” 

“Use your elbows if they press too close,” advised 

i 


8 


Felicia 


Mrs. Lewis, and in a few minutes the two women had 
threaded their way through the crowd and mounted 
the steps of the car which bore a placard with “ Green 
Junction ” on it. 

“ Plenty of room, too,” said Mrs. Topham thank- 
fully, as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light of 
the car. “ I plumped into this first seat for fear I’d 
lose all chance. Perhaps I’d better move forward a 
little.” 

“ I always choose a place near the door on account 
of getting a whiff of air now and then,” said her friend. 
“ There, see this troop of people coming. I hope 
you’ll be able to keep this whole seat. Are your 
bundles all safe ? ” 

“ Pretty late in the day to find out, if they aren’t,” 
laughed Mrs. Topham. “ One, two, three, four, five, 
six, seven, eight, and my bag and shawl — yes, that’s 
my full share. I hope if anybody sits with me ’t won’t 
be an extra large woman.” 

“ Do you suppose the new minister’s daughter might 
happen to be going up to-day?” asked Mrs. Lewis. 
“ Should you know her from any description you’ve 
had?” 

“ No,” said Mrs. Topham, “you see I came right off 
the day after they gave him the call, when he’d sup- 
plied four Sundays. When they spoke of his living 
in the parsonage if ’t weren’t for his wife being out in 
Colorado on account of her lungs, he said in a dreamy 
kind of way he has, * Why, I’ll send for my daughter 


Felicia 


9 


Felicia.’ My husband and the rest of the committee 
talked it over a little with him, but men never ask the 
important things ; and Lydia Cope’s been away for 
nearly six weeks. She’d have found out.” 

“Yes,” assented Mrs. Lewis. “Well, I’d better be 
going. It makes me fidgety to hear bells ringing all 
around and not know what train they’re for. Good- 
bye ; we’ve had a good visit.” 

“We have so;” Mrs. Topham kissed her old friend 
heartily. “ Next summer you’re coming to me — after 
all these years.” 

She had begun to pile her bundles carefully on the 
seat beside her when she heard a clear voice, and 
looked up to see two brown eyes, wistfully regarding 
her, over the top of a great bird cage, swathed in 
newspaper. 

“ Please, may I sit with you ? ” asked the little 
girl’s voice. “ There’s no other place for me, and I 
can’t stand on account of Martin.” 

“ You sit right down ; ” Mrs. Topham’s bundles 
were hastily gathered into her lap, from which most 
of them rolled to the floor. “ I was beginning to feel 
lonesome. Is Martin in that cage ? ” 

“ Yes’m, he’s my parrot,” said the little girl, “and 
he is a very remarkable bird — but some people don’t 
like parrots,” and she looked anxiously at her new 
acquaintance. 

“ I don’t know why a parrot shouldn’t be as good 
as any other bird if folks took pains with him,” said 


10 


Felicia 


Mrs. Tophain recklessly, under the spell of the brown 
eyes. “ The Lord made him.” 

u Yes’m,” and the little girl patted the cage softly. 
“ That’s what father said when grandfather left him 
to me. I hope the people at Blackberry Hill will like 
him.” 

Mrs. Topham gave a start of surprise. 

“ Blackberry Hill’s where I live,” she said. “ What’s 
the name of the folks you are going to stay with ? ” 

“ It’s only one ‘ folks,’ ” and the little girl’s face 
broke into smiles. “ It’s just my father.” 

“ Wait ! ” Mrs. Topham grasped the arm that 
rested on Martin’s cage as the train began to move. 
“ ’Tisn’t possible that when we thought you were 
grown up, you’re ” She stopped. 

The face of her little seat-mate grew sober in a 
moment. 

“ I’m Felicia Lane,” she said, the soft brown eyes 
very wistful again, “ the minister’s little girl. Oh, did 
everybody want me grown up ? ” 

Mrs. Topham made an instant decision. Her capable, 
motherly hand slipped over the fingers that had 
tightened their hold on the bird cage. 

“ You’re just about the right age, now I’ve seen 
you,” she said heartily. “ I’m Mrs. Topham, and my 
husband’s deacon, treasurer, and head of the music 
committee. I guess I ought to know, if anybody 
does.” 

If she had felt a moment’s hesitation she was re- 


Felicia 


1 1 

warded for not yielding to it, by the look of confidence 
given her by little Felicia. 

“ I’m so glad you aren’t disappointed, Mrs. Top- 
ham,” said the eager voice, while the large hand and 
the small one squeezed each other until the newspa- 
per rattled. 

“ I want to get out ! Quick ! ” came in a hoarse tone 
from under the paper. 

Mrs. Topham speedily removed her hand from what 
she considered a post of danger. 

“ I’d forgotten all about Martin,” she whispered. 
“ I hope we haven’t stirred him up. What do you say 
to him in a case like this ? ” 

Felicia put her lips down close to the cage. 

“ Martin,” she said softly, but distinctly, “ Martin, 
will you be a gentleman ? ” 

There was a strange sound, half chuckle, half cough, 
from the parrot. 

“ Who knows how to be polite ? ” asked Felicia. 

“Martin, Martin, Martin,” came from the cage. 
“ Martin’s a gentleman.” 

“ He’s all right now,” said Felicia, lifting a flushed, 
but satisfied face. “ I suppose you think he’s most 
like a person to answer back,” she said as she saw 
Mrs. Topham’s expression. “ He’s a good deal of com- 
pany.” 

“ My stars ! I should say he was,” exclaimed her 
new friend, and she was evidently not the only person 
impressed by Martin’s accomplishments, for his voice 


Felicia 



bad been heard above the rumble and rattle of the 
fast-moving train, and many heads were turned to 
look at the bird cage. 

" Quite a bird you have there, I should say,” re- 
marked an old gentleman across the aisle. 

“ Yes, sir,” Felicia answered with a smile, but she 
said nothing more. 

“ Friendly with all, but not one mite foffvard,” said 
Mrs. Topham to herself. “ She’ll be just the one to 
live next door to Lydia Cope, young as she is.” 

“ Here,” she said aloud, as the train stopped at the 
first station, “ we’ll change seats ; my bundles are 
mostly on the floor, and you can put your feet on ’em 
and have a good time looking out of the window.” 

“ O thank you,” said Felicia. “ I do love to look 
out of a car window and see the things fly past.” 

The change was made, and for a few moments Mrs. 
Topham studied the face of her little companion, 
while Felicia looked delightedly out at the flying 
landscape. 

It was a small face, but the chin had a firm look in 
spite of its soft roundness, and the mouth above it had 
rather a serious curve until Felicia smiled. Her nose 
was short and straight, and her eyes were unusually 
large and bright. Her hair was dark brown and, al- 
though she wore it braided, the end of the braid was 
a tight curl, and there were little curls and waves all 
over Felicia’s head. 

She wore a dark blue linen sailor suit, and a straw 


Felicia 


13 

hat to match it. She carried a blue jacket and a 
small bag, beside the bird cage. 

“ I believe she’d look some older in different clothes,” 
mused Mrs. Topham, and just then Felicia turned from 
the window and smiled at her. 

“How old are you, dear?” asked Mrs. Topham. 
“I was just wondering.” 

“ I’ll be thirteen next month, in May,” said Felicia. 
“ Don’t you think when a person gets into her teens, 
Mrs. Topham, it seems pretty old and — and responsi- 
ble?” 

“ I don’t ever expect to feel as old again as I did 
when I had my thirteenth birthday,” assented Mrs. 
Topham. “ But I was the oldest of seven, and the 
rest all boys. Out West, every one of them, now. 
They cut from the farm and ran out to my uncle in 
California, boy after boy. I shouldn’t know one of 
’em from another now, unless they stepped up and 
said, 6 I’m Henry,’ or 4 I’m William,’ and so on, but I 
guess they’d be put to it to know me after all these 
years. Would you think I was slim and had a pink 
and white face once ? ” 

Felicia looked at her neighbor with great earnest- 
ness before she answered. She saw the broad, kind 
face, browned and lined by time and weather ; she 
saw the twinkling eyes behind Mrs. Topham’s gold- 
bowed spectacles, and the stout comfortable figure in 
its tightly buttoned brown waist and good alpaca skirt. 

“ I don’t believe you could have been any nicer to 


■4 


Felicia 


look at than you are now,” said Felicia’s eager voice 
“ I do like you so, Mrs. Topham.” 

Up through the brown of Mrs. Topham’s cheeks 
there crept the color of a winter apple. 

“We shall be the best of friends,” she said, “and if 
there’s any advice or help I can give you, Felicia, you 
won’t have to ask twice. But your father said you 
knew all about housekeeping : that was one way we 
got the notion you were grown up.” 

“ O there are ever and ever so many things I don’t 
know how to do;” Felicia clasped her hands over 
Martin’s cage in her earnestness. “ I’ve always loved 
to cook, since I was a little bit of a girl, and mother 
and Aunt Mary have taught me. But you don’t know 
what a poor washer and ironer I am, Mrs. Topham ! 
And I can’t sweep very well.” 

“ My sakes alive ! ” Mrs. Topham looked indig- 
nantly at the little hands. “ You aren’t big enough 
for such work! You’d better let Loreena Parks do 
the washing and ironing, for her pew rent. That’s 
what the last minister’s family did.” 

“ For her pew rent ! ” repeated Felicia. 

“ Sounds queer to you, no doubt,” laughed Mrs. 
Topham. “ It’s this way, you see — the rent of the pews 
goes into the minister’s salary. Loreena Parks is 
deaf, and she has to have one of the best front, centre 
aisle pews to get the good of her churchgoing. She 
hasn’t any money more’n she needs just to live on, but 
she’s a grand one to wash and iron. So ” 


Felicia 


15 

“ Yes’m, I see,” Felicia nodded gravely, “ and I 
think it’s a splendid idea. I’ll explain it to father.” 

“ There’s a good deal of explaining to be done to 
men folks, off and on, and I suppose it falls to you, 
since your mother’s an invalid,” said Mrs. Topham. 
“ But he’ll see the rights of it, soon as it’s made clear 
to him. You’ll have enough to do with housekeep- 
ing, calls, meetings, sewing circles and what not. But 
there ! I guess you won’t be expected to do the same 
as if you were your mother.” 

“ I want to do just as much as I can, please, Mrs. 
Topham,” pleaded Felicia. “ Father likes Blackberry 
Hill so much, and it’s his first call, and mother’s so 
proud about it — way out in Colorado ! ” 

“ How long is it, dear, since your father gave up 
business ? ” asked Mrs. Topham. 

“ Three years and a half,” said Felicia. “ He’d al- 
ways wanted to be a minister, but grandfather needed 
him in the store, so he stayed, though he never liked 
it. But when grandfather died, father sold right out, 
and began to study, and he just loved it. The way 
I’ve had such a good chance to practice cooking is be- 
cause mother hasn’t been very well since baby John 
was born. He’s two years old, and just as cunning. 
He’s with my Aunt Mary. That’s where I came from 
to-day.” 

“Now I feel better acquainted than ever, hearing 
about your circumstances,” and Mrs. Topham patted 
the little girl’s hand, smiling. u As for me, I’ve lived 


Felicia 


16 

right in one house ever since I was married. I’ve had 
one daughter and one son, both gone to Keene to live 
— I can ride over ’most any week to see how they do. 
And there’s my husband, he’s a good deal of care, 
same as most men, and I’ve got a goat beside.” 

Felicia laughed delightedly. 

“ I never knew a goat,” she said, “ but I’d like to, 
Mrs. Topham. What is his name ? ” 

“ His name’s Jenkins, from the man that gave him 
to my husband in exchange for a cord of young birch 
wood.” Mrs. Topham tried to look indignant, but the 
corners of her mouth gave way. “ I don’t believe 
there’s another man in Blackberry Hill would have 
consented to such a barter,” she added, “ but my hus- 
band said the poor man needed the wood, and didn’t 
need the goat. That’s James Topham all over ! 
Well if here isn’t Green Junction already. Do you 
suppose you could help me get a few of these bundles 
off the floor ? ” 

Felicia set Martin’s cage down carefully and collected 
the bundles, none of which, however, she was allowed 
to keep. 

“ That bird’s full plenty for you to carry,” said Mrs. 
Topham, “ crossing the tracks and all. I never feel 
real safe here till I’m in our own car. There ’tis, see, 
on that side track.” 

The passage across the rails was made in safety, 
and the new friends found onl} r half a dozen passengers 
in the car. 


Felicia 


'7 


“ We’ll each take a whole seat, as there’s room to 
spare,” said Mrs. Topham, as she piled her bundles on 
one of the red plush seats. “ There is not a soul in this 
car I ever saw before,” she added. “ Now you look 
right out at the pretty view ; it’ll only be half an hour 
before we’re at Blackberry Hill, and I’ve got to have 
a little talk with the conductor. He’s had losses and 
seen trouble and he likes to have folks show interest. 
I’ll be right here, close behind you.” 

Felicia looked out of the window, her thoughts busy 
with many things, a little red flame of excitement in 
each cheek. She heard the murmur of voices behind 
her. Once her name was spoken, but she did not know 
what was said. One hand rested on Martin’s cage, 
and the bird was silent and apparently asleep. 

“ Green Grove ! ” called the brakeman ; then after a 
few moments, “ Stanton Centre ! ” then “ Biverdale,” 
and at last “ Blackberry Hill.” 

Mrs. Topham touched her on the shoulder. 

“You let Mr. Wadleigh carry the cage down the 
steps for you,” said Mrs. Topham. “ Mr. Wadleigh, 
I make you acquainted with the new minister’s little 
girl, Felicia Lane.” 

“ How do you do ? ” said Felicia with a smile. 

“ First-rate, and I hope I see you the same,” said 
the conductor. “ I’ll hoist the cage for you.” 

If Martin had been asleep he woke quickly at the touch 
of a strange hand on his cage. As Felicia, close at the 
conductor’s heels, reached the platform, Martin spoke. 


i8 


Felicia 


“ What’s all this ? ” he demanded, hoarsely, start- 
ling the conductor and causing a little yellow-haired 
girl to jump. “ What’s all this ? My name is Martin. 
Who are you ? Who are you ? ” 


CHAPTER II 


BLACKBERRY HILL IS SURPRISED 

When the cage had been transferred to Felicia and 
she had quieted Martin, there was quite a group of 
people staring with curiosity at Mrs. Topham’s new 
friend. The little yellow-haired girl tugged at Mrs. 
Topham’s elbow, to attract her attention. 

“ Who’s that ? ” she demanded in a piercing whisper. 
“ Is she a visitor, or is she coming here to live ? ” 

“ This is Felicia Lane, the new minister’s daughter,” 
and Mrs. Topham laid her hand on Felicia’s shoulder, 
while several bundles slid to the ground. 

“ I’ll pick them up ! I’ll pick them up ! ” cried the 
little yellow-haired girl, her eyes still on the stranger. 
“ O Felicia Lane, my name’s Winifred Harlow, and I 
live right here in the railroad station, and you must 
come to see me, and I’ll go to see you.” 

“ Now, Winifred, you mustn’t run on so,” said a 
pleasant voice from the doorway, as the station-mis- 
tress ended a hurried conversation with Mr. Wadleigh, 
and the train moved on. “ So you’re the minister’s 
little girl,” she said to Felicia. “ I reckon every- 
body’ll be glad to have another little girl in town. 
Blackberry Hill is mostly boys and grown folks.” 

“ There isn’t but one other,” said Winifred, “ and 
19 


20 


Felicia 


she doesn’t like to play much. Do you like to play ? ” 
she asked Felicia anxiously, as she put the last of Mrs. 
Topham’s bundles in her arms. 

“ O yes,” said Felicia, “ outdoors and indoors, I 
love to play.” 

She looked at Winifred and at all the grown people 
with her friendly smile, but Mrs. Topham saw that 
she was a little tired and confused, and disappointed 
not to see her father. 

“ Did the minister know you were coming to-day, 
dear?” Mrs. Topham asked her gently. “ You can 
ride right up with me in Bobby Simpson’s wagon, 
well as not, if there’s any doubt about your father.” 

“I saw the minister looking out old Baldy way, 
over Howe’s pasture, leaning on the wall, as I came 
along down,” said an old man who had just received 
an express package from the station-mistress. “ He 
didn’t appear to be in haste or have any pressin’ en- 
gagements.” 

Felicia’s eyes danced, and she smiled gayly at the 
old man. 

“Father’s watch is probably way behind time,” 
she said demurely, “and so he doesn’t expect me 
yet.” Then she looked quickly up at Mrs. Topham. 
“Very remarkable people often forget to wind their 
watches, and do other things, mother says,” she 
added. 

“History is full of just such folks,” said the old 
man, and Mrs. Topham gave him a nod of approval. 


Felicia 


21 


“ You start along with me,” she said to Felicia • 
“ we’ll be sure to meet your father. Bobby’s get- 
ting impatient ; that twenty-three year old colt doesn’t 
like to stand, Bobby thinks.” 

As they moved toward the wagon, she introduced 
everybody in the group, but Felicia scarcely knew to 
whom the names belonged, and was sure she could 
not remember them all. 

“ Do those people all go to father’s church ? ” she 
asked Mrs. Topham, when with Bobby Simpson sit- 
ting bolt upright between them on the broad seat of 
the wagon, they began the slow ascent of the winding 
hilly road. 

“ When they go anywhere, they do,” said Mrs. 
Topham, “ seeing that’s the only church there is in 
Blackberry Hill. But the attendance isn’t very 
large at the best of times, and in stormy weather 
more than half o’ the regular members feel a call to 
stay at home. Perry Green, that’s the sexton, told 
me he’d been the whole congregation so many times 
he had some fears of his hearing being overworked.” 

“ There’ll always be one beside him now I’m here,” 
laughed Felicia. “ Don’t you think father is a very 
remarkable preacher, Mrs. Topham ? ” 

“ He has a gift,” said her new friend decidedly, 
“and he’s an unworldly man, too, I can see that. 
He’s ” 

“There he is now,” announced Bobby Simpson, 
with a jerk of his thumb toward a tall figure standing 


22 Felicia 

by the low stone wall. “ Shall I stop the horse and 
holler ? ” 

“ Please stop the horse and let me get down/’ said 
Felicia quickly, but even as she spoke the figure 
turned. 

“ Why, Felicia,” cried the minister, as the little girl 
ran to him and clasped her arms around his neck. 
“ The train must have been early. I was sure I had 
more than time enough.” 

“It must be your watch to blame, father,” said 
Felicia over his shoulder, “ and you were faced the 
wrong way to see the train smoke, and I suppose you 
didn’t hear the whistle.” 

“ No,” said the minister, as he stepped out to the 
wagon to shake hands with Mrs. Topham. “ I can- 
not understand why — but I didn’t. Thank you very 
much for bringing my little girl up the hill. I’m 
afraid I must have seemed most negligent.” 

“ I guess you and Felicia are used to each other’s 
ways,” said Mrs. Topham easily. “ She and I are the 
best of friends already. I’m glad I happened to be 
on the train. She might have felt a mite strange, not 
knowing anybodj^.” 

“ I am more than grateful for your kindness,” said 
the minister ; “ now let me take Felicia’s bundles. The 
trunks came two days ago,” he added, turning to the 
little girl, “ but I have mislaid the keys, m3 7 dear.” 

“ Oh, I’ll find them,” said Felicia, smiling confidently 
up at him ; “ they must be somewhere, father.” 


Felicia 


2 3 


“ That is what I’ve said to myself a number of 
times,” admitted the minister ruefully ; “ the only 
trouble is to find the place.” 

Felicia laughed as she reached up to take her jacket 
and bag from Bobby Simpson. 

“You’ll take Martin, father, won’t you?” she 
asked, and the minister received the big cage from 
Mrs. Topham. 

“ Plow’d you do, Martin ? ” he said in a low tone, but 
there was nothing subdued about the bird’s response. 

“Well, well, well!” his voice rose in a hoarse 
scream. “ The best of luck ! Well, well, well ! ” 

Felicia clutched her father’s sleeve and her laugh 
rang out gayly. 

“ That’s what grandmother kept saying, when she 
heard about Blackberry Hill,” she said in the midst of 
her laughter. “ She repeated it over and over, and I 
saw Martin was listening to her. Oh, father, don’t you 
think you might poke a little hole in the paper, and 
let him look through? He’s been very good.” 

“ He has so,” Mrs. Topham added her word of com- 
mendation. “ For a bird that has his talent for talk- 
ing, he’s kept himself under most surprising. I own I 
should like to get a glimpse of his head, before Bobby 
drives on ; I must be getting home.” 

Mr. Lane put his thumb through the paper at one 
side of the cage and Mrs. Topham caught a flash of 
vivid green and the sparkle of a small but brilliant eye, 
cocked in her direction. 


H 


Felicia 


“ Who are you ? ” demanded the parrot peremptorily. 
“ My name is Martin. Who are you ? ” 

Mrs. Topham laid her hand on Bobby Simpson’s 
arm. 

“You drive on,” she commanded. “That bird’s 
’most too smart for me. I’ll be over soon as I get 
straightened out at home, Felicia, to see if there’s 
anything I can do to help you. Good-bye.” 

The minister lifted his hat and Felicia waved her 
hand as the wagon rattled away, but it was Martin 
whose voice followed Mrs. Topham as the horse turned 
off on the road that led to the Topham farm. 

“ Who are you ? ” he screamed hoarsely. “ I’m 
Martin. Who are you ? ” 

Bobby Simpson was a boy of few words, but as the 
sound of Martin’s voice at last died away, he spoke, 
looking straight ahead, and flicking the back of the 
old horse with a disinterested air. 

“ The minister’s got considerable of a family, even 
if ’tisn’t so much grown up as folks expected, hasn’t 
he, Mis’ Topham ?” said Bobby Simpson. 

Mrs. Topham turned on him quickly. 

“Now, Bobby,” she said earnestly, “ you know well as 
I do that there’s a good deal before that little girl she 
hasn’t any idea of. She likes everybody and she ex- 
pects they’ll all like her. You know full well there 
are folks in this town that aren’t prepared to make 
things any too pleasant or easy for the minister’s fam- 
ily ever ; always looking for flaws and finding ’em. 


Felicia 


25 


Fm afraid Mr. Lane wouldn’t have had the call except 
for their thinking his daughter was old enough to do 
her part ; yet he never meant to deceive them, I know. 
Just wait till I put a few questions to James Top- 
ham ! ” 

“ She’ll do her part,” said Bobby stoutly. “ She’ll 
go to the sewing meetings and all.” 

“ You see a good deal, if you don’t say much, Bobby. 
Now you be careful going around the turn,” cautioned 
Mrs. Topham, as they reached the road that led up to 
the farmhouse. “ That big stone is too far out, I’ve 
always said.” 

“ Yes’m, you have,” admitted Bobby. “ There’s 
Mr. Topham coming across lots now, hurrying.” 

Mr. Topham, a tall man with a slight stoop, and a 
kind, weather-beaten face, reached the barn a minute 
before the wagon. 

“ I got her all right,” said Bobby soberly, as Mr. 
Topham helped his wife down and reached up for her 
bundles. 

“ You did, and it’s a good work.” Mr. Topham 
looked affectionately at the returned traveler. “ Any- 
body you know on the train ? ” he inquired. 

“Somebody I know now,” said Mrs. Topham. 
“How old did you think the new minister’s lit — 
daughter would be, James?” 

Mr. Topham pondered for a moment, his arms full 
of his wife’s bundles. 

“ Why, we never inquired her age, of course,” he 


26 


Felicia 


said slowly, “ but the minister isn’t a very young man. 
I recollect that Sam Hollis and I gathered from what 
he said about her having kept house for him when his 
wife was ill, off and on, that she must be about twenty. 
That’s a little young, maybe, but I don’t believe she’s 
the flighty kind. Why, there, she was coming to-day, 
the minister said. Was she with you ? ” 

“ She was.” Mrs. Topham tried in vain to gaze 
sternly at him. “ And if ever you were taken aback 
in your life, I reckon you will be now. She’s not — 
quite — thir — teen years — old ! How how do you 
feel ? ” 

There was no mistaking the expression on Mr. Top- 
ham’s face. He was clearly alarmed. 

“ Dear, dear,” he said helplessly, “ what are we going 
to do about it ? ” 

“ Do ! ” echoed Mrs. Topham ; then she took pity on 
his evident distress. “ It’s all done,” she said briskly, 
“and I’m not sure but what it’s a good thing. You 
come into the house, soon as you’ve given your orders 
to Bobby, and I’ll tell you more.” 


CHAPTER III 


FELICIA IN CHARGE 

When the wagon had rattled out of sight, Mr. Lane 
looked with some anxiety at his little daughter. 

“We must stop Martin’s calling before we go any 
farther,” he said. “The real village begins just a 
little distance beyond, and it would never do to have 
such a noise as we pass the houses.” 

“ Naughty Martin,” said Felicia, and she laid her 
little blue jacket over the cage in such a way that 
darkness enveloped the parrot without a moment’s 
warning. 

“Well, well, well,” he muttered from under his 
double covering, and then he was silent. 

“ That’s better,” said the minister ; “ we have only 
a short walk up the hill, Felicia ; the village is on the 
plateau at the crest of the hill, and there are a few 
scattered houses on the road going down on the other 
side. We have fine air here at Blackberry Hill.” 

“ Are there blackberries everywhere ? ” asked Felicia 
as they walked on. “ The name sounds as if there’d 
be blackberries and blackberries ! ” 

“ Wait till you see what grows behind the parson- 
age,” the minister smiled down at his eager little 
daughter. “ This next house, Felicia, is where Mrs. 

27 


28 


Felicia 


Markham and her two daughters live; the young 
ladies have been looking forward to your coming, 
their mother told me on Sunday.” 

“ Father,” said Felicia slowly, “ I am sure from the 
way Mrs. Topham looked at me when I told her who 
I was, that everybody thought I’d be a grown-up 
young lady.” 

The minister stopped short and gazed at Felicia 
anxiously for a moment, then he shook his head. 

“ I think not,” he said, with a reassured air, as he 
walked on. “ I remember mentioning that, taking 
into consideration the difference between your mother’s 
age and yours, you were wonderfully like her. I’m 
quite confident they are prepared to see a young girl, 
only in her teens, as the saying is.” 

“ But, father, dear, you know I’m not even in my 
teens yet,” said Felicia. “ I shan’t be till next month.” 

“ Dear me, so you won’t,” said the minister. “ I had 
put you a couple of years ahead in my mind because 
you’re such a little caretaker. I must admit you look 
very young,” and he pinched Felicia’s cheek affection- 
ately. “ Never mind, little girl ; young life is needed 
at Blackberry Hill; doubtless if the people fancied 
you older, they’ll be all the better pleased.” 

He looked so hopeful that Felicia thought he must 
be right, and they walked briskly along, the minister 
telling her what he had learned of the people who 
lived in the houses they passed. Several times he 
bowed and Felicia could see that the necks of the 


Felicia 


2 9 


watchers at the windows were craned to get the last 
glimpse of her father and herself. In front of one 
house stood a group of ten or twelve boys, closely 
knotted together, examining a big ball. The boys 
stared at Felicia ; two or three of them bowed to her 
father. 

“Those are the Hilliard boys, and some of the 
others in the neighborhood,” said the minister. 
“There are six Hilliards.” 

“ They must have splendid times,” said Felicia. 
“ What is that pretty house close to the church, 
father ? O it must be your church, and ” 

“ Yes, that is the parsonage ; ” Mr. Lane was pleased 
as he saw Felicia’s delight. “ The house beyond, at 
the corner, is owned by a Mrs. Cope, a widow. She 
has been away since I came, until yesterday. She 
seems inclined to be most neighborly ; she came over, 
I think, three times this morning, and twice this after- 
noon before I started to meet you ; there is a path 
between the houses.” 

Felicia looked quickly up at her father, but there 
was no trace of anything but gentle musing in his 
face. 

“ Five times a day would be a good many visits,” 
thought Felicia, but just then they reached the par- 
sonage, and her father opened the little gate which 
closed with a cheery click behind them as they walked 
up the gravel path to the porch. 

There was a border of plants on each side of the 


3 ° 


Felicia 


walk; most of them were only pale green stalks as 
yet, but some little white and yellow heads swaying 
in the breeze seemed to smile a welcome to Felicia. 

“ You dear daffies ! ” she cried, and stopped to talk 
to them a moment before she followed her father into 
the house. “You must grow just as well as you can, 
all of you,” she said, addressing the garden border, 
“ for I shall love you, every one, though I don’t know 
yet who some of you are.” 

The parsonage had a small square porch and the 
door opened into a hall from which rooms led at the 
right and left. 

“This is the parlor,” said Mr. Lane, and Felicia 
looked in the room at the right to see a bare round 
table, half a dozen chairs and a stiff straight-backed 
sofa. The paper was dark and the parlor looked far 
from inviting to Felicia. 

“ This has always been the minister’s study,” and 
her father opened the door to the left. 

“This is where I shall sit, still as a mouse when 
you’re busy,” said Felicia decidedly, and the minister 
smiled. 

The setting sun had left a glow in the sky that still 
faintly gilded the western windows. There were low, 
broad window-seats with cushions covered, like the 
chairs and the big lounge, with a faded red rep ; the 
walls above the book shelves were faded to a soft 
yellowish pink, and at the farther end of the long room 
was a big fireplace in which a log was smouldering. 


Felicia 


3 1 


“ I love this room, father,” said Felicia, rubbing the 
back of the worn old lounge with her soft fingers. 
“ And we’ll put all your books here.” 

“ I should have unpacked them,” said the minister, 
“but I knew they would need dusting, and your 
mother never likes me to use my handkerchiefs for 
that purpose.” 

Felicia laughed as they went, hand in hand, out to 
the kitchen which ran the whole width of the house. 

“ It’s splendid ! ” cried Felicia ; “ please get me some 
kindlings, father, and let me make a fire right off 
quick. A stove looks so lonesome without a fire in it.” 

“ Dear me,” said Mr. Lane, when the kettle was sing- 
ing, as he warmed his hands and watched Felicia 
bustling about the kitchen, “it begins to seem like 
home. Before it was a pleasant enough house, but now 
it begins really to seem like home. I’m so glad I re- 
membered to have plenty of kerosene.” 

He looked with pride at a row of kerosene cans 
which Felicia had ranged in a cupboard under the iron 
sink into which the well water ran when it was 
pumped. 

“ Yes,” said Felicia, her eyes downcast so her father 
could not see how they danced, “ I think you could 
write at least a dozen sermons, father, by the light of 
these cans, if I could only find some lamps to put the 
oil in. I wonder where the lamps are.” 

She peered about in the cupboards with the aid of 
the candle she had found on the clock shelf, and paid 


3 2 


Felicia 


no heed, apparently, to her father’s hasty exclamation 
as he disappeared from the room. He came back to 
the kitchen with a lamp in each hand and a very shame- 
faced air. 

“ There are two more in my room up-stairs, Felicia,” 
said the minister ; “ I don’t understand how so many 
of them got up there, except that perhaps I forgot to 
bring one down each morning.” 

The minister looked so crestfallen that Felicia 
laughed outright. 

“ O father,” she cried, “ anybody would almost 
think I was your mother and you were a naughty 
boy ! ” 

The minister laughed with her, and turned to go 
up stairs again. Just at that moment came two start- 
ling sounds. One was a voice, hoarse but loud, from 
the study where Martin’s cage stood on the table ; the 
other was a sharp rapping on the side door of the 
kitchen which led directly outdoors. 

“ O dear, we forgot Martin, and he must be angry 
by this time,” said Felicia, hurrying to the study, 
while her father stood irresolutely on the threshold for 
a moment. 

“ That must be Mrs. Cope,” he said softly to 
Felicia. “The door is locked, but of course we must 
let her in. Can you quiet Martin, my dear ? ” 

“ Fll try,” said Felicia ; and she shut the door lead- 
ing into the study while her father crossed the kitchen 
to admit their neighbor. 


Felicia 


33 

As Felicia removed the papers from Martin’s cage 
his voice grew louder and louder. 

“ What is all this ? ” he demanded. “ My name is 
Martin. What is all this ? ” 

“O Martin, please be still,” begged Felicia, but he 
peered out at her in the fast gathering dusk as if he 
had never seen her before. 

“ Who are you ? ” he inquired shrilly. “ My name is 
Martin. Who are you ? ” 

Then he laughed, a long chuckling laugh, while 
Felicia talked to him softly, all in vain. From the 
kitchen she heard a woman’s querulous voice, and her 
father’s gentle answers. 

“ Yes, my daughter arrived,” she heard him say. 
“ She will come in a moment to see you, Mrs. 
Cope.” 

“ Has she brought company ? ” inquired the visitor. 
“ That can’t be her voice I hear.” 

“ No,” admitted the minister, “ that is Martin, our 
bird, Mrs. Cope.” 

“ Bird 1 ” cried his next door neighbor. “ What kind 
of a bird ? ” 

“ Who are you ? ” screamed Martin from behind the 
closed door. 

“ A parrot,” said the minister as Mrs. Cope stood, 
poised for flight, but still curious. “ A most remark- 
able parrot ; just now he is a little upset by the journey, 
and we had forgotten him for the time.” 

“ A parrot ! ” and Mrs. Cope sank limply into the 


34 


Felicia 


nearest chair, as the door from the study opened. 
“ Well, of all things for a minister’s family ! ” 

She stared blankly at Felicia, who advanced with 
* flushed cheeks and her friendly little smile. 

“ Who are you, child ? ” she asked feebly as Felicia’s 
warm hand touched hers. 

“ Why, I’m Felicia, and you are Mrs. Cope, I 
know.” The visitor half smiled up at the bright eager 
face in spite of herself. “ I’ve come to keep house for 
father.” 

Mrs. Cope gave a cough which sounded to Felicia 
more than half like a groan. 

“ And to think I came to ask you to attend the 
sewing circle at my house to-morrow afternoon,” she 
quavered, “ and to say we shouldn’t expect you to 
bring anything for the supper, when you’re just get- 
ting settled ! Have you got any food in the house ? 
I know your father’s been taking his meals most any 
way, as men folks do, when alone.” 

She did not glance at the minister, and there was 
something in her tone which made Felicia feel as 
if her father were being criticised. The little girl 
stepped close to him and put her hand through his 
arm. 

“Father has bought some nice things, Mrs. Cope,” 
she said, her fingers smoothing the black coat sleeve, 
“and I’ve brought his kind of tea and other things in 
my bag. And about to-morrow, please let me go to 
the sewing circle. I can sew plain sewing pretty well, 


Felicia 


35 


mother thinks, and I could thread all the needles and 
take out bastings, too. And I will make some peanut 
cookies if you like them. I’d love to make some to- 
morrow.” 

Mrs. Cope stared up at her in silence for a moment. 
Felicia’s color had grown brighter, and her eyes were 
shining, when the visitor spoke, rising as she did so, 
and drawing her shawl about her shoulders. 

“ You might as well come,” said Mrs. Cope. “ You 
aren’t what any of us expected, and I don’t know how 
things will come out,” she cast a quick glance at the 
minister as she turned toward the door, “ but we’ll try 
to make the best of it — while your father stays. 
Good-night.” 

The minister opened the door for her, and thanked 
her for her interest, but when the door was closed 
again his face wore a troubled look. 

“ Never you mind, father dear,” said Felicia with 
her most protecting air. “It will all come out 
right, I know. How would you like to have our sup- 
per right here in this splendid kitchen instead of in 
that dark little dining-room ? ” She pointed to the 
small room back of the parlor, which had originally 
been as large as the study and afterward divided to 
make the two rooms. 

“We will have tea and toast and jam and — pound- 
cake from my bag,” coaxed Felicia. “ You are hungry, 
aren’t you, father ? Say you are, please, for I am.” 

“ I believe I may be,” admitted the minister, putting 


36 


Felicia 


his worries resolutely away for the time and rubbing 
his hands together in a fashion he had when anticipat- 
ing pleasure. “ In fact I’m sure I must be. And let us 
have our supper in this splendid kitchen, by all means.” 

“Then I will hurry as fast as I can,” said Felicia 
gayly, “ and father, dear, I think you’d better let 
Martin come out here, too. I’m afraid he’ll hurt his 
voice, aren’t you ? ” 

“ No , I think his tones are quite strong yet,” and 
the minister’s opinion was borne out by the parrot’s 
display of his talents when he was ensconced in a cor- 
ner of the kitchen on a shelf. 

“ Where do you think his cage will hang, father ? ” 
asked Felicia, in a pause of Martin’s conversation. 

The minister looked at him thoughtfully. 

“ Until he grows accustomed to his new home,” said 
Mr. Lane at last, “ it seems to me, Felicia, it may be best 
to move him about, according to — to circumstances.” 

“ That,” said Felicia as she cut slice after slice from 
the loaf of baker’s bread, “ is just what I’d been think- 
ing. Do you suppose he would like to be in that nice 
# shed sometimes, father ? Sundays, for instance ? ” 

Mr. Lane looked doubtfully at the bird, who had 
suddenly grown silent, and was apparently intent on 
listening to the conversation. The minister had never 
felt as much at home with Martin as Felicia. 

“ I think,” he said decidedly, “ that we shall be 
much wiser if we eat our supper, give Martin his, and 
put him to bed before we make any more plans, Felicia.” 


CHAPTER IV 


EARLY MORNING VISITORS 

Felicia chose for her bedroom a small square room 
back of her father’s instead of the big one over the 
parlor. There was an old “ canopy-top ” bed in it, 
with posts that were carved so that they looked as if 
there were a great pineapple on each one. Felicia 
had been too sleepy when she went to bed to stay 
awake for even five minutes, but the next morning 
she lay looking out at the pale blue sky, and sniffing 
the sweet spring air that filled the room, from her 
wide-open window. 

“ Father isn’t awake yet,” she told herself, “ and I 
have so many things to plan, I might as well lie here 
a little while. I wonder what time it is. I wonder if 
I could see any blackberry bushes if I looked out of 
my window. I wonder if I can buy peanuts here in 
Blackberry Hill. Oh — I wonder so many things ! ” 

She yawned and stretched her arms above her head, 
and just then a brisk little clock in the kitchen struck 
the hour of seven ; the sound came clearly up through 
the quiet house. Felicia sprang out of bed. 

“ I hope Mrs. Cope won’t know how late I am,” she 
thought, as she hurried with her dressing. She ran to 
the window and looked out. 

37 




Felicia 


“ There are bushes and bushes and bushes ! ” she 
said joyfully, “ and they must all belong to the par- 
sonage, because there is the wall way off down there, 
beyond the last bush. Oh, that sounds as if somebody 
were at the kitchen door.” 

There was a sound of soft rapping on the door, which 
was directly beneath Felicia’s window and hidden 
from her by the sloping roof of the little porch which 
sheltered the door. Felicia’s fingers seemed very 
clumsy, as she tried to make the last few buttons and 
buttonholes come properly together in her haste, 

“ Oh, dear,” she said to herself, “ I suppose it’s Mrs. 
Cope, and I must get my dress fastened before I go 
down. There, she’s going away ! ” 

From behind the curtain she looked out to see, not 
Mrs. Cope, but a little flying figure with yellow curls 
under a scarlet cap. 

“ Oh, Winifred ! ” she called softly. “ Winifred 
Harlow ! Come back and I’ll be down-stairs in one 
minute.” 

The little flying figure paused, wheeled, and Wini- 
fred’s rosy face was upturned to the window. 

“ Oh, aren’t you late ! ” she called as softly as Felicia. 
“ I’ve brought you a present and left you a letter. I 
wrote it because I was afraid the minister might open 
the door, and ministers are so dignified, you know.” 

“ My father isn’t like that with little girls,” said 
Felicia, “and he hasn’t waked up yet. Wait for me, 
Winifred.” 


Felicia 


39 

The yellow head was shaken with great vigor, 
though Winifred laughed up at the window. 

“I have ever so many errands to do,” she said. 
“ I’ll come again after you’ve had your breakfast, be- 
fore it’s time for the potato train. Good-bye ! ” 

“ Oh, what is the potato train ? ” called Felicia, but 
the only reply was a wave of Winifred’s hand as she 
vanished around the corner of the house. 

Felicia went softly down-stairs, lighted her fire and 
then slipped back the old wooden button which fast- 
ened the kitchen door. On the stone step there was 
a fat square glass jar from under the cover of which 
stuck out a slip of paper. Felicia lifted the jar and 
read the words written in a scrawling hand in red 
pencil on the slip of paper : 

“ The minister sayed you liked blackberries. I 
helped mother make this jam. It is for you, for a 
Wellcome. Winifred Harlow.” 

“ Father will love it on his hot biscuits,” said Felicia 
to herself. “ I’m so glad I sent him a list of things to 
buy, so I can have a good breakfast for him. The air 
is so warm I believe I’ll leave the door open for 
awhile.” 

She bustled about the kitchen getting out the bread 
board and rolling-pin, the flour and milk and every- 
thing she needed. Felicia was never happier than 
when she had on the big checked apron which covered 
her from her chin to her ankles, and her hands well 


40 Felicia 

sprinkled with flour. She was a born cook and de- 
lighted in her skill. 

“ There are plenty of eggs,” said Felicia, thinking 
aloud. “ I’ll make father an omelet, the tossy kind he 
likes so much.” 

“ That sounds delicious,” said the minister who came 
in at the door in time to hear her. “ I don’t mean to 
let you steal a march on me another morning, Felicia. 
I’ll go out and split kindlings to pay for being late, 
till you are ready for me.” 

“ You needn’t,” laughed Felicia, but her father had 
already started for the shed. She went into the study, 
where Martin sat in darkness, and brought him out to 
the kitchen. 

“ Good-morning, Martin,” said Felicia ; “ I’ll put you 
out on the door step to breathe the beautiful air, if 
you’ll be good. And here’s a lump of sugar and some 
bread and butter for an outdoor breakfast. Won’t 
that be fun ? ” 

“ Very well,” said Martin cheerfully, “ very well.” 

“ You look around at the pretty green things,” said 
Felicia, as she beat the yolks of the eggs. 

She was cautiously turning the bowl, in which she 
had whipped the whites, upside down, to be sure they 
were stiff enough, when she heard footsteps and then 
Martin’s voice saying, “ Who are you ? I’m Martin. 
Who are you ? ” 

Mrs. Cope appeared in the doorway, surprise and 
disapproval plainly written on her face. 


Felicia 


4i 


“ Is that parrot to live out on the step ? ” she in- 
quired, after a half-hearted “ good-morning.” “ He 
looks like a bird that would nip a piece right out of 
anybody that wasn’t prepared. Haven’t you had your 
breakfast yet ? My dishes were all washed and cleared 
away before I came over here.” 

“Father and I both overslept,” apologized Felicia. 
“ We sat up a long time last night, talking. But it’s 
not much after eight o’clock, Mrs. Cope, only a minute 
or two, and father is coming right in.” 

Mrs. Cope’s sharp eyes roamed the kitchen from 
corner to corner as she talked. 

“ The last minister’s wife was in poor health, so she 
couldn’t do all folks expect of a minister’s wife,” she 
said regretfully, “ but she had his breakfast ready at 
seven, same as the rest of Blackberry Hill families, 
excepting the Tophams,” she added grudgingly. 
“ Mrs. Topham is one of those that know no law and 
no rules. Do you plan to eat in the kitchen, right 
alongside of your cooking ? ” 

It seemed to the minister, who entered the kitchen 
at that moment, that Felicia’s little head had an un- 
usually airy set on her shoulders as she faced the un- 
pleasant visitor, but her voice and words were per- 
fectly respectful. 

“ I shall try to do everything just the way father 
thinks best,” she said clearly. “ The kitchen is so big 
and light we thought it would be pleasanter than the 
real dining-room, Mrs. Cope.” 


4 2 


Felicia 


“Won’t you sit down with us, and taste Felicia’s 
omelet ? ” asked the minister hospitably. “ It takes 
her only a minute or two to prepare it, and I can as- 
sure you it will be very good.” 

“ Oh, no,” and the visitor backed toward the door. 
“ I have a great many things to do when it gets to be 
as late as this in the morning. I just stepped over to 
see if there was anything I could lend, and to remind 
you about the circle. It meets at three. Do you 
know how high eggs are ? ” 

“ I neglected to inquire,” admitted the minister with 
a whimsical glance at Felicia; “my daughter had put 
eggs on the list, and they seemed quite necessary.” 

“ M-m,” said Mrs. Cope, as she turned from the door, 
holding her skirts carefully away from Martin’s cage. 
“Well, I’ll bid you good-day.” 

Felicia’s omelet was very good indeed, but neither 
she nor her father enjoyed it as much as they had ex- 
pected. 

“Father,” said Felicia at last, “do you think Mrs. 
Cope will make up her mind not to like me ? ” 

The minister laid down his knife and fork, and 
reached across the little table to put his hand on 
Felicia’s. 

“ You must make up your mind to find out the good 
things in Mrs. Cope and like her for them, dear,” said 
the minister gently. “ I am sure there is no one in 
Blackberry Hill who would not mean to help us in 
our new home.” 


Felicia 


43 


“ Yes, father,” said Felicia soberly ; then the corners 
of her mouth twitched. “ Please tell me the good 
things you have found in her,” she said, smiling across 
the table. 

“ My dear,” said the minister, “ I — ah — I — we must 
hunt for them together.” 

“ Of course we will,” said Felicia, getting up from 
her seat and running to give her father a loving 
squeeze as he rose from the table. “ And now, father 
Lane, you must build yourself a fire in the study and 
write all those things that made you forget about 
winding your watch, yesterday, while I put the house 
in order, and make those peanut cookies. Oh, I forgot, 
I haven’t any peanuts.” 

“ I will take the short walk to Fosdick’s, the grocery 
and provision shop,” said the minister. “ I’m sure I 
saw peanuts there yesterday.” 

Felicia thought for a moment. 

“ No, father dear,” she said decidedly. “ I don’t be- 
lieve the Blackberry Hill ministers have ever bought 
peanuts for their wives, and I don’t believe there have 
been any minister’s children for a long time, or some- 
body would speak of them. Winifred Harlow said 
she would come again this morning, and I can go with 
her to the shop.” 

“ Perhaps that would be the better plan,” and the 
minister looked much relieved. “ Winifred seems a 
bright little girl,” he added as he turned toward the 
study. “ She is an adopted child, and her life down at 


44 


Felicia 


the station is too full of excitement, some people think, 
but Mrs. Harlow is bringing her up as well as she can. 
Perhaps you may be a help to Winifred.” 

“ Oh, I just want her for a friend, father,” said 
Felicia ; “ she is so pretty, and we can have good times 
together. Here she comes, now.” 

She had caught a glimpse of Winifred’s scarlet cap 
bobbing along the road above the wall, but it appeared 
that its wearer was bent on hurrying past the house. 

“ Oh, Winifred ! ” cried Felicia. “ Aren’t you com- 
ing in ? The blackberry jam was so good ! ” 

The scarlet cap stopped bobbing and Winifred’s head 
was raised higher and higher as she climbed the wall. 
She stood for a second on top and then jumped to the 
ground on the parsonage side with a clatter of small 
stones. 

“ I’ll put them back,” she called as she caught sight of 
the minister, standing behind Felicia in the doorway. 
“ They’re only the little filling stones.” 

“ Never mind about putting them back,” said the 
minister. “Come right in, Winifred. My little girl 
was just wishing you would come.” 

Winifred advanced with as sober a look as she could 
summon to her mischievous face. 

“ I’m afraid of ministers,” she said shyly. “ O what 
a bee-yu-ti-ful bird ! ” 

Her fears were all forgotten as she gazed at Martin, 
who returned her look with evident enjoyment. He 
cocked his eye at her scarlet cap and spoke up briskly. 



YOU ARE THE MOST WONDERFUL BIRD 





Felicia 


45 

“My name is Martin,” he said. “Very well, very 
well. Good-morning. Who are you ? ” 

“ Oh, you are the very most wonderful bird I ever 
saw!” cried Winifred, lost in admiration. “If ever 
you want a place to visit, you come right down to the 
station and stay with me.” 

“ What’s all this ? ” inquired Martin in his most 
amiable tone. “ What’s all this ? Who are you ? ” 

“I am Winifred Harlow,” said the delighted visitor, 
“and I’m just as pleased to know you.” 

Then the two little girls laughed together, and the 
minister joined them. Martin was persuaded to say a 
number of remarkable things, and Winifred’s eyes 
grew bigger and bigger. 

“ This will never do for me,” said the minister at 
last. “ I must get to work on my sermon,” and he left 
the little girls together. 

“ I’ve known eight ministers in Blackberry Hill,” 
said Winifred as the study door shut behind him, 
“ and he is the very best of them all. I choose him, 
Felicia.” 

She perched on the arm of the big kitchen rocking- 
chair and nodded her head at Felicia. 

“You stay here,” she said eagerly. “The others 
have never stayed but just a little while, and I’ve 
never cared. But I want you to stay.” 

“ We’d like to stay.” Felicia stood close to her new 
friend, and Winifred’s arm stole around her. 

“ You and your father are the very best,” said Wini- 


46 


Felicia 


fred, “and I want you to stay. Now I shall help 
with the breakfast dishes ; I will wipe between the 
tines of the forks and everywhere. Mother Harlow 
said I needn’t be home till just in time for the potato 
train.” 

“ What is the potato train? ” asked Felicia as she 
poured the boiling water into her dish pan and danced 
the soup strainer up and down in it. 

“ Why, it’s the half-past eleven train,” said Wini- 
fred. “ I thought everybody knew that. How do 
they know when to put the potatoes in, where you 
lived before you came here, if they don’t have a train 
whistle ? ” 

“ There are clocks,” laughed Felicia. 

“ Clocks ! ” echoed Winifred scornfully. “ A train 
is ever so much better. It’s good you’ve come to 
Blackberry Hill ; you’ll learn ever so many valuable 
things. Please give me a dish towel, Felicia. Shall 
you be my friend for ever and ever ? ” 

“I shall,” said Felicia, and as the dish towel 
changed hands, the two little girls twisted their 
fingers together and bowed solemnly to each other, 
before they fell to work. 


CHAPTER V 


THE SEWING CIRCLE 

When Felicia bade Winifred good-bye at quarter 
past eleven the two little girls had spent a delightful 
morning together and felt that they knew each other 
well. Winifred had helped with the dishes and “put- 
ting the kitchen to rights,” as Felicia said. She had 
helped make the two beds and air the rooms, and it 
was she who suggested a most desirable spot for Mar- 
tin’s cage. 

“ Why don’t you put him on the dining-room 
table,” said Winifred. “ You could leave the door 
open into the kitchen except when there’s company, 
and when you shut it he’d be so surprised at the sudden 
dark he’d keep still, wouldn’t he? And it does seem 
a pity not to have that dining-room used,” laughed 
Winifred. “ When he’s been very good I should think 
you’d hang the cage on the old lantern hook out here 
on the kitchen porch. Mrs. Cope wouldn’t be afraid 
of having pieces nipped out of her then. How do 
you like my plan, Martin ? ” she inquired of the par- 
rot, who put out a claw and hooked it around her 
finger in a cordial way. 

“He likes everything you say and do, Winifred,” 
said Felicia. “I never saw him make friends so 
47 


4 8 


Felicia 


quickly with any one before. You put his cage in the 
dining-room, and see what he’ll do.” 

Winifred lifted the cage with one hand while Mar- 
tin still held a finger of the other. She carried the 
cage into the dining-room and set it on the table which 
was covered with a red cloth. 

“There,” she said triumphantly. “You’re in a 
grand place, Martin Lane ! You peek out through 
those curtains and you can see some lovely trees and 
a piece of the road; sometimes there’ll be carts going 
by ; Sundays you’ll see a great many people if you 
watch carefully — as many as twenty-five. And right 
out this other way there’s the kitchen with all kinds 
of things going on, and Mrs. Cope coming in three or 
four times a day to admire you. Aren’t you a lucky 
bird ? Please let go my finger, Martin.” 

The parrot reluctantly loosed his hold, and twisted 
his head about to survey his new surroundings. 

“Very well,” he remarked at last, “very well. 
Come again.” 

“ Thank you,” said Winifred, “ I shall. Now let’s 
go for the peanuts, Felicia.” 

They had a ten minutes’ walk to Fosdick’s, where 
Felicia was introduced by Winifred to Mr. Fosdick, 
who seemed much pleased to see her. 

“ I shan’t take a cent for peanuts from the minister’s 
little girl,” he said as he filled a big paper bag and 
twisted the top of it together so that no peanut could 
escape. “ I only wish I could go to the sewing circle 


Felicia 


49 


supper and eat some of your cookies ; but you see 
I’m not a married man, so there’s nobody to invite 
me.” 

“ I wish I could invite you,” said Felicia as she 
took the big bag and shook Mr. Fosdick’s hand. 
“ When the sewing circle meets at our house I will 
invite you. And I’ll save some cookies out of this 
batch and father will bring them to you to-night 
when he comes to the post-office for the paper. You’ll 
be here, won’t you, Mr. Fosdick ? ” 

“ Seeing the post-office is hitched right on to my 
store and I live over it, I make it a point to get my 
mail twice a day,” said Mr. Fosdick gravely. He had 
pushed his spectacles well down on his long nose and 
looked over them at his new customer, whose face 
was as sober as his own for a moment. Then they 
all laughed and the two little girls started away. 

Winifred stayed long enough to help shell and chop 
the peanuts. Then she had to run home, with prom- 
ises to make another visit the next day. 

“ You’ve said you’ll come down to the station, to 
our house, to see mother and everything just as soon 
as you’re settled,” she reminded Felicia at parting, 
“ but I’ll do the visiting at first ; to-morrow I’ll help 
you dust books. I’ll be just crazy to know about the 
sewing circle. Mother can’t ever go on account of 
the trains, of course. Don’t you be scared, whatever 
they say to you,” she added, “ and you sit as close as 
you can to Mrs. Topham. She’s the best of them all.” 


5 ° 


Felicia 


“I. hope I can sit by her,” thought Felicia as she 
rolled out her cookies when Winifred had gone, “ but 
I suppose maybe I shall have to sit by everybody 
and answer questions. I wish father could be there 
all the time. O I wish I’d asked Winifred what I 
ought to wear. Perhaps father will know.” 

She did not disturb the minister then, but when the 
cookies were cooling on a big platter in the pantry 
window and she and her father had sat down to their 
dinner she asked her question. 

“ Why, I was invited to the supper last month, 
the first week I was here,” said the minister thought- 
fully. “ I think the ladies were in black silks, as a 
rule, with perhaps a white waist or something of the 
sort to lighten the effect.” 

“ Oh, father ! ” cried Felicia, “ I just wish mother 
could hear you ! How she would laugh. Don’t you 
think some of the ladies had on blue, or green ? ” 

“ How that you speak of it,” said Mr. Lane, “ I 
believe I do remember one or two blue dresses and — 
Felicia,” he broke off suddenly as he looked across 
the table and saw Felicia’s face buried in her nap- 
kin — “ you are making sport of your father ! How 
I shall not tell you any more. You are exactly like 
your mother,” he added with a little sigh. “ I wish 
she were here to tell you what to wear, my dear.” 

“ So do I, father, but we know she is getting well 
as fast as ever she can,” said Felicia, “ and she 
mustn’t be bothered about anything. I believe I’ll 


Felicia 


5 l 

wear my white dress that Aunt Mary gave me ; it’s 
pretty and it’s warm enough.” 

When she was dressed, ready to start across the 
path to Mrs. Cope’s, the minister approved her ap- 
pearance. Her cheeks were pink with excitement 
and matched the ribbon which tied her braid. The 
little white dress was simple as it well could be, and 
Felicia wore no ornaments except one small ring 
which had been her mother’s until Felicia grew big 
enough to wear it. 

“ You look as you should, I think,” said the min- 
ister, as he kissed his little girl good-bye. “I will 
fasten the kitchen door, and go out by the front 
way when I start. I shall be there at six o’clock, 
perhaps a little before.” 

“ That’s three whole hours,” said Felicia, over her 
shoulder; “do come early, father dear.” 

She walked slowly across the short grass, carrying 
her plate of cookies covered with a napkin, in both 
hands ; her little sewing bag swung on her arm. 

“ Mrs. Cope always comes to our kitchen door,” 
thought Felicia as she drew near the house, “ but per- 
haps she’d rather I’d go to the front of her house. I 
wish I knew.” 

She had to pass the kitchen on her way to the front 
door, and hearing voices, she hesitated for a moment. 

“I should think the cookies ought to go in this 
way,” she said to herself, and stepping to the kitchen 
door she rapped on it gently. 


5 2 


Felicia 


The voices stopped, and quick steps came across 
the kitchen floor. The door opened, and there stood 
her friend Mrs. Topham, with Mrs. Cope just behind 
her. 

“ You dear child,” and Mrs. Topham drew her into 
the kitchen. “I thought you were Bobby Simpson 
with the milk. And there, you’ve brought something 
good for the supper, I do believe. Put the plate 
right on the table, and we’ll fix it later. I declare 
it’s good to see a young face amongst all our old ones, 
isn’t it, Mrs. Cope ? ” 

She turned to the hostess of the afternoon, who 
was standing with her eyes fastened on Felicia’s 
dress. 

“ I don’t feel as old as some, with reason,” she said 
coldly. “ You didn’t wear a hat, Felicia ? ” 

“ Why no’m ; ” the little girl’s eyes turned from the 
disapproving face to that of her friend for comfort. 
“ It was such a short way, and I came across the path, 
and ” 

“ I can’t abide the feel of a hat, myself,” broke in 
Mrs. Topham as Felicia’s words came slowly. “ If I 
hadn’t such a worn place, spreading, too, on top of 
my head, you’d never catch me with a hat on, except- 
ing Sundays.” 

Felicia smiled gratefully up at the kind face. 

“ Yes’m, thank you,” she said, and Mrs. Topham un- 
derstood her, though Mrs. Cope stared, uncompre- 
hending, at them both. 


Felicia 


53 


“ Got your little work-bag, too, all complete, I see,” 
said Mrs. Topham cheerfully. “Now, Mrs. Cope, 
will you take Felicia through to the sitting-room and 
introduce her to the folks, or shall I ? ” 

Mrs. Cope hesitated, and then her face relaxed just 
a little as she looked at her small guest, and Felicia 
took heart and smiled at her. 

“ I’ll take her in,” said Mrs. Cope with grim enjoy- 
ment. “ I shall be interested to see ” — she hesitated as 
Mrs. Topham was seized with a severe fit of coughing, 
and she failed to finish her sentence. “ Step this 
way,” she commanded, and Felicia followed her 
through a long entry, past a closed door toward a 
room from which there came the whirr of a sewing- 
machine and the sound of busy, cheerful talk. 

As they reached the open door it seemed to Felicia 
as if at least a hundred pairs of eyes were staring at 
her. The sewing-machine stopped, and the young 
woman who had been running it gazed frankly with 
the rest of the company. Mrs. Cope gave Felicia a 
little shove which sent her over the threshold into the 
room. 

“ Ladies,” she said dryly, “ this is Mr. Lane’s daugh- 
ter, Felicia. Mrs. Markham, Miss Ellen, Miss Susan, 
Mrs. Jordan, Mrs. Green, Mrs. Brown, Miss Tweedle, 
Mrs. Lamkin, Mrs. Rawles, I make you all acquainted 
with Miss Felicia Lane.” 

Felicia’s cheeks were scarlet, and her eyes sought 
one face after another as Mrs. Cope waved her hand 


54 


Felicia 


to indicate to whom the different names belonged. It 
seemed to her that none of the faces wore an un- 
friendly look ; they were simply curious or surprised. 
She drew a quick breath and stretched out her hands, 
the little work-bag slipping down over her wrist. 

“ Please, never ‘ Miss,’ ” said Felicia. “ I’m only a 
little girl, and I’m afraid I’m a dreadful disappoint- 
ment because you expected me grown up, and wise 
maybe, but I’ll be the very best minister’s daughter I 
can.” 

There was a moment’s pause, ended by Miss Ellen 
Markham, who spoke from her seat at the sewing- 
machine. Miss Ellen was about thirty and had a 
long, rather sleepy face. 

“ I wish you’d come here and find the eye of this 
needle for me, Felicia,” said Miss Ellen in a matter-of- 
fact tone. “We all have to put on glasses early in 
our family, and I guess my time has come. I’ve been 
running without any thread for the last five minutes, 
I judge, by the looks of this petticoat.” 

Felicia was at her side before she finished speaking, 
and threaded the needle with fingers that trembled 
with eagerness. As the little girl bent over the 
machine, Miss Ellen swept the room with a determined 
glance, and then turned what seemed like a stare of 
defiance at Mrs. Cope, over Felicia’s head. 

“We’ll look after Felicia, if you are busy in the 
kitchen, Mrs. Cope,” said Miss Ellen crisply. “ Here, 
Felicia,” and she drew a chair close to her own ; “you 


Felicia 


55 


sit by me a while. I spoke first and I’m going to have 
first chance to talk to you. That’s a sweet, pretty 
little dress you have on,” she said, raising her voice 
as Mrs. Cope started along the entry ; “ next sewing 
circle I believe I’ll put on a white one myself.” 

“ O I’m so glad you like it,” said Felicia ; “ father 
and I did not know what to have me put on ! ” 

“ Father and you made a good choice,” said Miss 
Ellen, as she started the sewing-machine. “Now, 
Felicia, you guide this petticoat, will you, and I’ll see 
if I can manage a plain seam without running across 
country.” 


CHAPTER VI 


PEANUT COOKIES 

That was a busy afternoon for Felicia. She 
threaded the machine needle and dozens of other 
needles for the different members of the sewing circle. 
She pulled out yards and yards of basting thread, and 
pinked the edges of many seams on small flannel pet- 
ticoats. And beside all that she answered all sorts of 
questions and heard a great deal of conversation. 

Before the afternoon was over every member of the 
sewing circle knew just how old Felicia was and how 
old her mother and father and baby John were ; how 
much Felicia had been to school and what were her 
best studies ; her mother’s maiden name, and the ad- 
dress of her grandmother and her Aunt Mary. All 
these facts and many others were drawn from Felicia 
without the slightest difficulty. On one point only 
she failed to give satisfaction to her questioners. 

“ Has your grandmother much property ? ” inquired 
Mrs. Cope when Mrs. Topham was for the third time 
busy in the kitchen. 

“ Grandmother has never told me about any property 
except Dick, her canary,” said Felicia. “ She calls 
him a ‘ valuable piece of property,’ and that’s why she 
56 


Felicia 


57 

doesn’t care to have Martin live with her ; the birds 
are not good friends.” 

“ Martin wouldn’t have much use for a canary, from 
what I saw of him,” remarked Mrs. Topham, who en- 
tered the room just in time to hear Felicia’s answer ; 
“ he prefers folks.” 

She stopped at Felicia’s side and laid her hand on 
the child’s shoulder. 

“ Time to put up work, isn’t it ? ” she said to Mrs. 
Cope who gave a reluctant assent. “ What was it 
you asked about fancy stitching when I was called out 
just now ? ” she inquired of Felicia. 

“ She’d like to put pink and blue feather-stitching 
at the head of the hems on these flannel petticoats for 
the frontier barrel,” said Mrs. Cope before Felicia 
could speak. “ Pure foolishness I call it.” 

Mrs. Topham beamed down on her little friend. 
Then she took a pile of the flannel skirts from the 
table. 

“ Have you any silk on hand ? ” she asked Felicia. 

“ Yes’m,” said the child eagerly. “ That’s why I 
asked. I could do them evenings while father reads, 
till my bedtime. Truly I can feather-stitch nicely and 
evenly, Mrs. Topham.” 

“ So do, then,” and Mrs. Topham briskly wrapped 
the skirts in a paper and wrote “ Felicia Lane ” on it in 
large letters. “ I guess there won’t anybody object to 
a little fancy work on these homely things, that lives 
anywhere from Maine to California.” 


58 


Felicia 


The supper was delicious, and the tall slight man 
who was the first of the six o’clock guests to arrive, 
had no reason to doubt the popularity of Felicia or 
her peanut cookies. All the husbands as well as 
their wives praised the cookies. Felicia had to repeat 
her rule for making them half a dozen times, and in 
the end it was copied on scraps of brown paper and 
taken home by each member of the sewing circle. 

“ I don’t expect mine will taste the same, though 
I have the receipt,” said Mrs. Topham as she bade 
Felicia good-night. “ You’ll have to come over some 
day and show me just how. There’s a knack to most 
things that you only get by seeing.” 

“ I’d love to come,” said Felicia. She and her 
father were standing just outside the door as Mr. and 
Mrs. Topham got into their wagon which Bobby 
Simpson had driven from the farm. Bobby was hold- 
ing the horse’s head as if he expected him to run at 
any moment. As Mr. Topham took up the reins 
Bobby released the horse and started for his seat at 
the back of the wagon. He bowed awkwardly to the 
minister and then spoke to Felicia. 

“ How’d you like to take a ride over to Green Cor- 
ners with me some day, for grain, you and Winifred ? ” 
asked Bobby. 

Felicia looked up at her father, who nodded ap- 
proval. 

“I think it would be splendid,” said Felicia. 
“ Thank you very much.” 


Felicia 


59 


“ All right, I’ll let you know when,” said Bobby, 
and with a swinging jump he gained his seat just as 
the wagon started. 

“ That boy doesn’t know his place,” said Mrs. Cope 
as she handed Felicia her empty plate and napkin. 
“ I understand Loreena Parks is to do your washing, 
when she gets over her cold. She couldn’t come to- 
day on account of it. You’ll find she washes and 
irons whenever it suits her ; some of the ministers’ 
wives have found it trying. She’s one that takes colds 
often and has them hard, and gives right in to them. 
Well, I’ll bid you good-night. I’ll be over to-morrow, 
most likely.” 

Felicia squeezed her father’s arm as they started 
down the road to their own door. 

“ Poor Mrs. Cope,” said Felicia, “ she doesn’t have a 
very good time, does she, father ? But I’ve found out 
one good thing about her. She loves flowers and she 
can make everything grow ; and she has promised to 
help me with my garden, father. I couldn’t tell 
surely, but I thought she was pleased when I asked 
her.” 

“ No doubt,” said the minister. 

“ Yes,” said the little girl, “she told me the wife of 
the minister who came last before us planted things 
wrong and had no judgment. Do you believe I shall 
have judgment, father ? Then there were several 
ministers who hadn’t been married, so they felt the 
lack in the church,” quoted Felicia innocently, “and 


6o 


Felicia 


some of the wives have not been fit helpmates. What 
is a fit helpmate, father ? ” 

“ Why, different people have different ideas,” said 
the minister. “ Your mother has always been one to 
me, in spite of her illness.” 

“ Then I shall be one while she is away,” Felicia as- 
serted with decision. “Mrs. Topham will tell what 
kind of a fit helpmate the people like for the minister 
in Blackberry Hill, and I shall be that kind, just as 
near as I can.” 

The study fire had died down to a faint glow dur- 
ing their absence but they took turns at blowing it 
with the old bellows till the flame leaped up once 
more. 

“ How father,” said Felicia, “ I thought I’d finish 
my letter to mother while you rest and look at the 
fire. Then you could take it to the post-office with 
Mr. Fosdick’s peanut cookies.” 

Felicia’s weekly letters to her mother were by no 
means easily accomplished, much as she liked to write 
them. Her spelling was far from faultless, in spite of 
all her pains, and punctuation had always seemed a 
strange and difficult science to little Felicia. But she 
wrote steadily on and on, while the minister sat half 
dozing before the fire, and at last the letter was done. 

“ There,” said Felicia with a long sigh, “ it’s all 
finished. Would you like to read it, father ? I’ve put 
in ever and ever so much love from you to mother and 
I’ve made half a page of big circles — at least I meant 


Felicia 


61 


them for circles — for kisses from both of us for her ; 
she’ll like them. And I’ve told all the news I can 
think of, and drawn a plan of the house as nearly 
as I could, though it looks a little queer ; see, father.” 

She presented the minister with a sheet of paper on 
which was a diagram, made of unsteady lines, with a 
remarkably one-sided appearance. 

“ It looks as if the house must lean way over, doesn’t 
it ? ” asked Felicia, as she surveyed her work over her 
father’s shoulder ; “ but don’t you believe mother’ll 
understand ? ” 

“ Of course she will,” said the minister, “ and I 
doubt if I could have made as good a plan myself 
without spending more time over it.” 

“ Thank you,” said Felicia happily, as her father 
handed the letter back to her. “ I didn’t tell her how 
many ministers they’d had in Blackberry Hill in the 
last ten years, since the old minister died,” Felicia 
added, as she folded the letter and slipped it in its 
envelope. “ I thought — I thought perhaps it wouldn’t 
be very encouraging to mother.” 

“ That’s my wise child,” said the minister, patting 
her hand. “ How if the cookies are ready, I will go 
to the post-office, so I may surely see Mr. Fosdick.” 

When her father had gone, with the letter in his 
pocket and a little box containing six peanut cookies 
in his hand, Felicia sat down on one of the worn old 
footstools before the fire to think. 

“ Father doesn’t know how hard it will be for me to 


62 


Felicia 


be a fit helpmate,” she said to the fire, “ and I J m glad 
he doesn’t.” She began to count on her fingers. 

“ There was Mrs. Evans who planted wrong and I 
had poor health ; Mrs. Reed didn’t call on half the 
people and she didn’t take an interest ; there was the 
young lady one of the unmarried ministers was en- 
gaged to; she was frivolous,” Felicia repeated the 
word twice, with a puckered forehead. “ I must ask 
father about frivolous, some day. Then there was 
Mrs. Conant who talked too much ; and Mrs. Seavey 
who was so untidy. ’Most every time, they say, the 
minister might have stayed on and on if he’d had a 
fit helpmate.” 

Felicia sat before the fire, thinking very hard. At 
last she thought the door from the kitchen opened, 
and that in came all the sewing circle ladies, headed 
by Mrs. Cope. “We have come to tell you,” they 
said in chorus, but with Mrs. Cope’s voice the loudest, 

“ that we find you are not ” 

“Wake up, dear,” said the minister, shaking her 
gently ; “ you were so fast asleep you didn’t hear me 
come in. Mr. Fosdick sends his best thanks for the 
cookies, and it is time my little girl went to bed.” , 

“ O father, I’m so glad I was asleep ! ” cried Felicia 
as she rubbed her head against his coat sleeve. “ I’m 
so glad I wasn’t awake ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


MBS. COPE SMILES 

Next morning Felicia was awake so early that the 
smoke went curling up into the air from the parsonage 
chimney fully ten minutes before Mrs. Cope had 
lighted her fire. 

“ There ! ” said the little girl triumphantly, as she 
rubbed the last touch of sleep from her eyes, “ I don’t 
believe Mrs. Cope will be over before breakfast this 
morning. I guess if Mrs. Evans with her poor health 
could get breakfast at the right time, I can.” 

“ It seems much earlier than it was yesterday when 
we sat down to breakfast,” said the minister in a 
wondering way as he drank his coffee. 

“ It is earlier,” said Felicia. “ Don’t you want to 
have our meals at the right Blackberry Hill times, 
father ? ” She looked at him eagerly, impatient for 
his answer. 

“Why yes, perhaps it would be best,” said Mr. 
Lane slowly. “ ‘ When you are with the Romans ’ — 
you know the rest, my dear.” 

“ I don’t believe the Romans were half as particular 
as some of the people at Blackberry Hill,” said Felicia. 
“ Then we must have breakfast at seven, father, and 
dinner at half-past twelve, and supper at six.” 

63 


64 


Felicia 


“ Yery well,” said the minister. “Have the meals 
whenever you like, Felicia. You are the house- 
keeper.” 

“ O it’s not when I like, father,” said Felicia earn- 
estly. “ But they say that if Mrs. Graham had been 
the right kind of minister’s wife he would never have 
gone to call on people just when they were getting 
dinner on the table, or sat till past their supper time. 
She had no system, father ; that was the only trouble 
with the Grahams.” 

“Dear, dear,” said the minister as he pushed his 
chair away from the table. “We must be sure to 
have system then, Felicia, mustn’t we ?” and his eyes 
twinkled. 

“Yes, indeed,” said Felicia; “ now please, father, 
hurry and be in your study writing or reading while I 
do the dishes. Martin is behaving beautifully outside 
the door, aren’t you, Martin ? ” 

“ Yery well,” said the parrot, allowing her to stroke 
his head. “ Martin is a gentleman. Yery well.” 

“ You may stay here till Mrs. Cope comes,” said 
Felicia, “ then I shall hurry you into your parlor, Mar- 
tin, for Mrs. Cope does not like — she isn’t used to 
parrots.” 

“ I don’t want to hurt his feelings, father,” for the 
minister had paused in the study doorway and was 
laughing. “ He looks as if he understood every 
word.” 

“ He seems to know some things,” said the minister. 


Felicia 65 

“ Good-bye, my dear, for a little while,” and he crossed 
the threshold and shut the door. 

Felicia sang as she worked up-stairs and down ; it 
was a beautiful spring morning : Mrs. Cope certainly 
could not think she had been lazy, and Winifred was 
coming to see her in the afternoon. 

“ I shall have dumplings with the stew for dinner,” 
said Felicia when, the house all aired and the rooms 
in order, she stood once more at the kitchen table. 
“ I think I’ve been pretty quick, and Mrs. Cope hasn’t 
come yet.” 

“ Help ! ” cried Martin’s voice hoarsely. “ Help ! ” 

“ What is the matter ? ” asked Felicia, hurrying to 
the parrot. 

He made no reply, but Felicia, looking across the 
yard, saw Mrs. Cope just starting along the path. 

“ Why, Martin, I wouldn’t have believed it of you,” 
said Felicia softly, as she took the cage from its hook 
and carried it to the dining-room. 

“Very well,” said the parrot, cheerfully, as she set 
him down. “ Very well.” 

“ Didn’t I see that bird out here when I started 
across?” asked Mrs. Cope as she reached the door. 
“ You needn’t hide him on my account. Anybody 
who has ears knows you have him.” 

“ I didn’t hide him, Mrs. Cope,” said Felicia ; “ he 
stays in the dining-room all day except for a while in 
the morning ; he likes it.” 

“ I wonder what our former minister (I mean old 


66 


Felicia 


Dr. Jarvis, of course) would have said to a handsome 
room being set apart for a parrot,” remarked Mrs. 
Cope. “ It has a queer sound, to say the least.” 

“ It isn’t set apart for him,” said Felicia, the color 
rising in her cheeks. “ It’s because we don’t need it, 
Mrs. Cope, that father thought we’d better put Martin 
there, when I asked him. It was Winifred Harlow 
who really thought of it ; she’s so bright,” said Felicia 
loyally. 

“ Bright I ” echoed Mrs. Cope. “ There’s such a 
thing as being altogether too bright. I call her a 
saucy child. However, what I came for was to look 
over the garden with you. I was all worn out with 
the company and work yesterday, and I’ve just got 
’round to coming over.” 

“ I’d be delighted to have you tell me about the 
garden,” said Felicia; her neighbor’s ungracious words 
showed how tired she must be, the little girl thought, 
and at once Felicia was sorry for her. 

As they walked around the house to the front yard 
Mrs. Cope glanced critically at Felicia’s clean blue 
linen dress. 

“ I’m afraid you’ll have trouble getting your clothes 
done up, afflicted as Loreena Parks is,” she said. “ I 
should have a couple of good dark brown or black and 
white percale dresses for my housework if I were in 
your place. I can help you cut them out and stitch 
them up.” 

“ I don’t know as father would like me in them,” 


Felicia 


67 


said Felicia. “ He thinks blue is such a pretty color. 
I wear big aprons in the kitchen, Mrs. Cope ; and Miss 
Loreena Parks sent me word she’d come on Monday 
morning, ‘ sharp at seven.’ ” 

“ It remains to be seen whether she can keep her 
word,” said Mrs. Cope. “Though I notice she can 
almost always get out to church, no matter how she’s 
feeling. My curtains have been waiting for her to 
starch them a special way she has, for more than a 
week. I suppose you noticed my windows were all 
bare yesterday.” 

“ I thought probably you had the windows that way 
on purpose, to make all the more light for the sewing 
ladies,” said Felicia quickly. “And your windows 
shone so, Mrs. Cope — just like diamonds they were ! ” 
For the first time in their acquaintance Mrs. Cope 
looked at the little girl as if she found her a really 
pleasant sight. 

“I take considerable pride in my windows,” she 
said briefly, “ but it isn’t everybody that notices the 
difference. When my new curtains are up you come 
over and see how the parsonage looks from my sitting- 
room.” 

“Thank you,” said Felicia, “I’ll come just when- 
ever you’re ready for me. O Mrs. Cope, what is that 
bush up close to the door-step ? ” 

“ That’s flowering almond,” said her neighbor. 
“Has little pink flowers like little roses, in clusters. 
Mrs. Evans let it go to wrack and ruin last summer ; 


68 


Felicia 


never picked a flower off it, nor trimmed it when it 
was done blooming, or anything. And look at that 
honeysuckle on the other side. A high wind tore it 
off the trellis one day and she never had it put back. 
She didn’t thin out the peony bed over here, nor the 
lilies-of-the-valley over there, and when she planted 
her seeds she had ’em so tall things came right up in 
front of short ones, and the candytuft and cornflowers 
and marigolds were all mixed in so you couldn’t tell 
t’other from which. I never saw such work. I can 
tell you I pitied that poor man.” 

“ Did he love flowers ? ” asked Felicia. 

“ I don’t know.” Mrs. Cope was bending over the 
almond bush, nipping off a twig here and there. 
“Men don’t always say whether they like things or 
not ; you just have to take it for granted.” 

“Why that’s like father,” said Felicia, laughing. 
“I guess you know ever so much about families, 
Mrs. Cope.” 

The face bent over the almond bush wore a grati- 
fied and almost gentle look. 

“ I’ve had a husband and lost him,” said Mrs. Cope, 
without turning her head, “ and the same with a son 
and two brothers. Because I’m alone in the world 
now doesn’t prove I’ve been without folks all my life.” 

“ I’m sorry,” said little Felicia, and she stretched 
out her hand, the warm sympathy in her heart glow- 
ing in her face. “ Perhaps — perhaps father and I can 
be sort of folks to you, Mrs. Cope.” 


Felicia 


69 


“ Maybe you can, ,, said Mrs. Cope. She spoke with- 
out enthusiasm, but she took Felicia’s hand and really 
gave it a little shake. 

“ Now see here,” she said, “ you can have as pretty 
a garden as there is in Blackberry Hill, excepting mine, 
because I’ve been at mine so many years. You have 
all these bushes and plants to start with ; those roses 
will do well if you take an interest, and so will the 
larkspur and the sweet-williams ; and you can send for 
some seed with me, from a catalogue I have. And I’ll 
advise you every day. But you’ll have to work to get 
ahead of the weeds, and keep ahead of them. What 
do you say ? ” 

“ I have fifty cents all my own to spend on the gar- 
den, from my grandmother,” said Felicia, “ and if that 
will be enough, I’ll take a great deal of interest, Mrs. 
Cope.” 

“ Fifty cents will buy ten excellent packages,” Mrs. 
Cope told her promptly. “ I’ll be over this evening 
with the catalogue, and you may write off the list for 
both. I suppose you have plans for this afternoon.” 

“ Winifred is coming to see me and help dust father’s 
books as he unpacks them,” said Felicia. 

Mrs. Cope’s face clouded slightly, but she accepted 
Felicia’s thanks for her visit and bade her good-bye 
with much less stiffness than ever before. 

“ Those Hilliard boys would be good ones to help 
get your garden ready,” she said at parting. “ You 
can ’most always find one or two of them waiting round 


7 ° 


Felicia 


for something to do. You pay them in food ; I never 
saw such appetites in my life. Their mother is away 
a good deal, and they have hired help, but I guess she 
gave up trying to keep them satisfied, long ago. 
They never refuse anything from pop-corn to cold 
potatoes.” 

“Thank y<?u for telling me,” said Felicia. “They 
look like nice boys, I think. I suppose they’re grow- 
ing and that makes them hungry.” 

“ Nobody could grow enough to account for being 
as hungry as those Hilliard boys,” said Mrs. Cope 
firmly, but she smiled a little as she spoke, and did not 
seem very severe, after all. 

Winifred had said she would come to the parsonage 
at two o’clock and just before the clock struck the hour 
she appeared at the kitchen door carrying a stout 
bundle. 

“ There,” she said as she put the bundle into Felicia’s 
hands, “ you just undo that, and see if you don’t like 
it. Two people sent me the same thing for a Christ- 
mas present and this one has been done up ever since. 
It came from a lady that I gave some blackberries to, 
while the train stopped one day. I probably shan’t 
ever see her again, and anyway she’d like you to have 
it, I know.” 

While she talked breathlessly on, Felicia undid the 
bundle. At last, out from many wrappings came a 
darky doll ; she seemed very heavy, and stared straight 
at Felicia from two blue bead eyes under woolly hair 


Felicia 


7 1 


partly covered by a stiff white cap. She had on a red 
and white striped gown, over which she wore a broad 
kerchief and a starched apron. She had arms, but 
Felicia discovered that from the waist down she was 
shaped like a stout round stick and felt like hard 
wood. 

“She’s Dinah Doorstop,” said Winifred, “and I 
thought you’d put her against the kitchen door, maybe, 
to keep it a little way open, or any door ; she’ll be just 
as faithful ! ” 

“ She looks so.” Felicia smoothed Dinah Doorstop’s 
skirt, and pulled out the bows of her apron as she 
stood on the kitchen table. “ Thank you ever and 
ever so much for such a beautiful present, Winifred. 
I wish I had something to give you.” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Winifred as she took an apron and a 
cheese-cloth duster from a bag she had brought. 
“ You’re enough of a present yourself, and the best 
kind of one. Things are nice, but people are the 
best presents. Now I’m all ready to help dust the 
books.” 

She had hung her hat and coat on the nail behind 
the kitchen door, tied her apron on with a quick jerk, 
and flourished the big white dust-cloth at Felicia, 
while she talked. Felicia knocked at the study door, 
and the minister called “ Come in,” at once. As the 
two little girls entered the room the minister turned 
to Felicia, in his hands a foot rule which he had been 
regarding with a slight frown. 


72 


Felicia 


“ O Winifred, you are very kind to come and help 
us,” he said, shaking the visitor’s hand cordially. 
“ Before I unpack the biggest books I wish to see if 
there is a good place to put them. Some of them are 
nearly a foot tall, and the greatest distance between 
any of these shelves seems to be a little over ten 
inches. They are books I use constantly.” 

“ Couldn’t you lay those tallest books flat on their 
sides, father ? ” suggested Felicia, after a moment. 
Winifred was sure she had thought of it at once ; she 
believed, too, that although Felicia spoke gravely, she 
had to keep back a smile. 

“ Wh}r, of course,” said the minister, “ that is the 
very thing. It’s strange that didn’t occur to me, at 
first.” 

Winifred made a little sound like a choked laugh, 
but Felicia put her arm through her father’s and 
stroked his sleeve. 

“ Ministers can’t think of everything all at once,” 
she said with her pretty air of protection. “ If they 
could, I’d be afraid to be a minister’s little girl. Now 
you tell us which books to dust first, father, and we’ll 
begin right away.” 

When the dusting was all done and more than half 
of the books were in their places on the shelves, the 
two children put on their coats and went out for a 
walk, arms twined around each other’s waists. They 
passed a group of boys, and Winifred stopped ab- 
ruptly as the boys took off their hats. She unwound 


Felicia 


73 


her arm from Felicia’s waist and faced about toward 
the boys, who broke into a straggling line, with crimson 
faces. 

“Felicia,” said Winifred in her most polite tone, 
“this is Ned Hilliard, and this is Will, and this is 
Frank, and this is Jim, and this is Arthur ; Ted isn’t 
here ; these other two are Jack and Donald French. 
Boys, this is Felicia Lane, and she’s my intimate 
friend, and going to be intimater the longer we 
know each other. Now, can’t you say something 
nice ? ” 

“ Pleased to see you,” came in a chorus from the 
boys. “Hope you’ll have a first-rate time,” added 
one boy gallantly, and Felicia laughed and thanked 
them all. 

“ There, that’s done,” said Winifred as the little 
girls started on together again. “ They’re all the 
friends I had, young ones, till you came, and I knew 
they wanted to be introduced. They’re pretty nice — 
for boys. Oh, and Bobby Simpson’s another, but he 
has to work all the time.” 

“ I forgot to tell you he wants to take us a drive to 
get grain, some day,” said Felicia. “I said we’d 
like to go ; you would, wouldn’t you, Winifred ? ” 

“I’d like to go anywhere with you, Felicia,” said 
Winifred. “ Now there’s nobody looking, let’s run 
down this hill fast as ever we can, and blow all the 
dust out of us ! ” 

“ All right,” said Felicia, and holding hands they 


74 


Felicia 


flew down the hill, landing at the foot as the Topham 
wagon, driven by Mr. Topham himself, turned the 
corner. 

“ Whoa ! ” cried Mr. Topham, and the horse stopped, 
close to the little girls. 

“ We — were — just getting some dust out ! ” panted 
Winifred. “’Twas all my idea; Felicia never would 
have done it alone.” 

“ It’s a good thing to do once in awhile, when 
you’re young and limber,” said Mr. Topham looking 
down benevolently at them. “ I was charged by my 
wife to stop at the parsonage and invite your father 
and you to come to-morrow for the afternoon and 
supper,” he said to Felicia. “ Shall I stop and ask the 
minister ? ” 

“ If you will, please,” said Felicia, “ but I know 
we may go, Mr. Topham. Thank you very much in- 
deed.” 

“ Goody ! ” cried Winifred when the wagon had 
driven on. “You’ll see Jenkins and have a splendid 
visit. I wish I’d been invited, too, but I’ve been a 
good many times.” 

“ Some day perhaps she may ask us together,” 
suggested Felicia. 

“I believe she will,” assented Winifred. u O 
Felicia, Blackberry Hill is a beautiful place to live 
anyway, but it’s beautifuller than ever now you’re 
here.” 

“ Oh, thank you, Winifred,” said Felicia, and she 


Felicia 


75 

tried to think of something equally pleasant to say to 
her friend. 

“ I feel,” said Felicia shyly, “ I feel just the same 
toward you, Winifred.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


TEA WITH THE TOPHAMS 

The next day was Saturday. Felicia baked bread, 
cake, brown bread and beans, and made an apple pie, 
just the way the minister liked best. When it came 
out of the oven, a delicate golden brown crust, with 
crimped edges, Felicia knocked on the study door, pie 
in hand. 

“ See, father,” she said as the minister turned in his 
chair to welcome her. “ I mustn’t stay even if you 
wanted me, I’m so busy ; but I thought you’d make 
your sermon end still better if you saw this pie, and 
knew you’d have it for dinner to-morrow.” 

They laughed together and the minister praised 
her skill until Felicia dimpled with pride. When 
she had again shut her father’s door she came face to 
face with Mrs. Cope who stood regarding the loaves 
on the kitchen table. 

“ I knocked,” said the visitor, “ but you were so 
busy with your father you didn’t hear me.” She 
paused and looked curiously at the apple pie in 
Felicia’s hand. “ Do you show everything you do, 
all your cooking, to Mr. Lane ? It must hinder him 
some.” 

“ Oh, I haven’t seen him before since breakfast,” 
76 



THE MINISTER PRAISED HER SKILL 

































































Felicia 


11 

said Felicia quickly. “ But he loves apple pie, just 
this kind, and I had such good luck.” 

She looked eagerly at Mrs. Cope, but that lady was 
in one of her most unyielding moods. 

“ Our former minister — I am referring to Dr. 
Jarvis, of course — never knew what he ate,” she 
said still gazing at the pie; “he was ’way above 
food.” 

“Was he?” asked Felicia anxiously. “Oh, Mrs. 
Cope, I’m afraid father isn’t, but he isn’t a very big 
eater ; I’m sure he isn’t.” 

“ I noticed he relished the supper,” responded the 
visitor in a guarded tone, “ but then I suppose 
ministers can’t all be alike about food any more than 
other things,” she added. “ I just stepped over to 
see how you were getting on. I suppose your father 
posted our flower list.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Felicia, “and won’t it be fun, Mrs. 
Cope, when the seeds begin to come up ? ” 

“ There’s a good deal to it, beside fun,” said Mrs. 
Cope, as she opened the door, “ particularly if it’s a 
dry summer ; however, we’ll hope for the best.” 

“ Father,” said Felicia as they sat down to dinner, 
“ you aren’t ever very hungry, are you ? 

“ I’m very hungry at this minute,” said the minister 
cheerfully. “ I hope there is plenty of everything for 
me to eat a great deal, and still not rob you.” 

“ Mrs. Cope had one of her very sober times, this 
morning, father ; ” Felicia looked rather anxiously 


7 » 


Felicia 


across the table, Mr. Lane thought. “ She said Dr. 
Jarvis never knew what he ate.” 

“ Then I’m sorry for him,” said the minister, smiling 
at her. “ Would you have liked to cook for him, 
Felicia ? ” 

“ No,” said the little girl decidedly. “ But — oh, I 
have a great many things to ask Mrs. Topham this 
afternoon ! ” 

Mr. Topham had offered to drive the guests to the 
farm, but Felicia and her father both preferred to 
walk in the sweet spring air and sunshine, as the day 
was fair. 

“ But Bobby Simpson will drive us home, father, 
when it’s dark, for fear we’d lose our footing,” said 
Felicia, as they walked along, hand in hand. “ That’s 
what he told me this morning.” 

When they reached the farm they had a warm wel- 
come from every member of the household. 

“You lay off your things right away,” said Mrs. 
Topham, who had taken Felicia to her bedroom, while 
Mr. Topham carried the minister off to the barn. 
“You’ll never need a hat nor gloves for looks when 
you come to Topham farm, that’s one thing.” 

“I’m so glad,” said Felicia, giving a little wriggle 
of delight. “I think it’s lust beautiful here, Mrs. 
Topham.” 

“ I was glad to see you shake hands so cordial with 
Bobby,” said her hostess warmly. “ He hasn’t any 
real folks belonging to him except a worthless father, 


Felicia 


79 


and we like to make of him considerable. He isn’t 
one that takes advantage, vve think, in spite of what 
Lydia Cope says.” 

She laughed as she spoke, and then seemed to regret 
her words. 

“There,” she said penitently. “We won’t talk 
about her, for she sort of provokes me, for all she’s a 
good woman, and Mr. Topham says she has a warm 
heart when you get to it. He ought to know, with 
all the trouble he’s had on account of her being the 
best-off woman in the congregation and trying to run 
the minister and the music and everything else. But 
James Topham has ’most too much patience, I think 
sometimes.” 

She glanced affectionately at a large crayon portrait 
of Mr. Topham that hung over the mantel in the par- 
lor through which they were passing, and stopped to 
fleck an imaginary speck of dust from the frame. 

“ Before you go home, after supper, you tell me any- 
thing that worries you, and see if I can help out,” she 
said, laying her hand on Felicia’s shoulder, “ but this 
afternoon we’ll forget about everything. Here, Scrat- 
tle, come up on my shoulder and see Felicia.” 

She addressed a sedate yellow cat, sitting in the 
middle of the front hall. He blinked up at her for a 
moment, and then, as she stooped a little, he gave a 
spring and landed on her shoulder, purring loudly and 
opening and shutting his claws with an air of great 
content. 


8o 


Felicia 


Felicia stroked his fur and he purred still louder. 

“Now you watch him,” said Mrs. Topham. “I’m 
going to take you out to see Jenkins. The minute we 
step off the piazza and turn toward his part of the 
yard, you see what Scrattle will do.” 

The cat settled himself firmly on Mrs. Topham’s 
shoulder as they stepped out on the piazza. His purr 
continued until his mistress had walked the length of 
the piazza, down the three broad steps to the grass and 
turned the corner of the house ; then it stopped and 
Scrattle rose, balancing himself with care. As Mrs. 
Topham stood, as if hesitating for a moment, he made 
a plaintive “ meaow,” but when she started toward the 
left he sprang to the ground and ran toward the barn 
as fast as his four paws could carry him. 

“Jenkins got loose once and chased him,” explained 
Mrs. Topham, “ and he hasn’t ever forgotten it. It’s 
the same with the hens, and as for Peter, that’s our 
dog, you never see him on this side of the house since 
Jenkins came. I don’t feel so very confident about 
him myself, but he hasn’t ever hurt me, though he’s 
made me considerable extra sewing, first and last. 
There, what do you think of him ? ” 

Felicia looked at the goat, tethered near a clump of 
bushes, with a good deal of awe. 

“ He — do you think he is a very pleasant goat, so 
he’d be glad to make friends ? ” ventured Felicia. 

“No,” said Mrs. Topham, her sides shaking with 
laughter, “I shouldn’t call him a pleasant goat, and 


Felicia 


81 


he’d tear anybody to pieces that tried to make friends, 
I expect, unless ’twas Winifred ; that child would step 
right up to a wild beast, I do believe, and he’d be so 
surprised he’d forget to do anything to her.” 

“ Yes’m, I think Winifred is just like that,” said 
Felicia admiringly. “Martin likes her ever so much. 
What is Jenkins useful for, Mrs. Topham ? Or is he 
for a pet, like Martin ? ” 

“ He’s useful for discipline to me, I guess,” laughed 
Mrs. Topham. “ He does crop the grass some, but we 
don’t really need him for that. He’s pretty good 
about eating up odd things ; take something that won’t 
burn up easy and leave it where you’d think ’twas just 
out of his reach, and he’ll stretch that tether and make 
a point of eating whatever ’tis. He made away with 
two old rubber bags and a pair of overshoes that way 
last week. The natural history would most likely say 
he couldn’t — but he did.” 

During Mrs. Topham’s conversation Jenkins had 
steadily regarded her, tossing his head from side to 
side. When she stopped talking he lowered his head, 
and picking up a strip of something bright red, began 
to chew it vigorously. 

“ That’s the end of my little shawl that blew off the 
line when I was airing it day before yesterday,” said 
Mrs. Topham. “ There, let’s go out to the barn ; it 
puts me all out of patience to see him eating it — and 
yet ’tis his nature, so I can’t blame him.” 

In the barn they saw the horses, Dick and Daisy, 


82 


Felicia 


and Scrattle jumped again to Lis seat on Mrs. Top- 
ham’s shoulder. Then Peter, the old collie, joined 
them, and trotted soberly at Felicia’s side, much to 
her delight. They looked at the flower beds, and some 
seeds sprouting in boxes under glass, just as Felicia’s 
seeds would be when they had come and been planted. 

“ Mrs. Cope’s just the one to help you with your 
garden,” Mrs. Topham told Felicia, “and I’m glad 
she’s offered. The ministers’ families have been a dis- 
appointment to her that way.” 

“ You mean since Dr. Jarvis died, don’t you, Mrs. 
Topham ? ” questioned Felicia. 

Mrs. Topham looked down at her little guest in 
silence for a moment. Then she put her arm around 
Felicia and drew her close. 

“Dr. Jarvis,” she remarked with emphasis, “ was a 
good man, but he didn’t know a rose from a turnip. 
You remember that any time you want to — and if I 
see occasion I’ll remind Lydia Cope of it.” 

The afternoon seemed all too short to Felicia ; there 
was so much to be seen at Topham farm. When 
five o’clock came she went with Mrs. Topham to the 
hen yard, a great bowl of grain held carefully in both 
hands. 

“You won’t have to call,” said Mrs. Topham, “you 
just click the latch o’ the hen-house door, and see 
what’ll happen.” 

Felicia clicked the latch and from all parts of the 
yard came the hens and chickens, hurrying and crowd- 


Felicia 


83 


ing against one another, while the two roosters stood 
at one side, heads well forward, and legs firmly planted, 
as close to Felicia and the bowl as they could get. 
She scattered the grain near and far, making sure that 
every chicken had a share of it. 

“ You’re as handy at it as if you’d fed chickens all 
your days,” Mrs. Topham commended her. “ See that 
little bantam trying to pretend he doesn’t care for 
any more ; you toss him a mite, and see how long he’ll 
neglect his opportunity ! ” 

When supper time came Felicia was allowed to help 
Mrs. Topham set the table with the pink-sprigged 
china, and little glass tumblers with spreading tops. 

“ See here,” said Mrs. Topham, when the table was 
set, “ you come with me, and we’ll dress to fit the oc- 
casion, and match the china. We aren’t obliged to 
have supper on the minute.” 

When the supper was on the table and Mr. Topham 
and the minister were summoned to the feast, they 
found a hostess of long ago in a flowered dimity 
gown over a short blue quilted petticoat, with a won- 
derful high cap on her head. Beside her stood a lit- 
tle maid in can ary -colored muslin, a white kerchief 
with daintily ruffled edge, and a string of gold beads 
around her slender neck. 

“Allow me to make you acquainted with little 
Mistress Alison Gray,” said Mrs. Topham, bowing 
stiffly to her husband and his guest. “ My grand- 
niece that was.” 


8 4 


Felicia 


The gentlemen bowed as gravely as possible, but 
after a minute Felicia laughed, and then every one 
else followed her example. 

It was a merry little supper, with Marm Gray and 
her grand-niece Alison, who were often mistaken for 
Mrs. Topham and Felicia. Then when the fine dresses 
were laid aside and the dishes had been washed and 
put away, Mrs. Topham sat down in the great kitchen 
rocker and drew Felicia into her lap. 

“ You’re none too big for mothering,” she said to 
the little girl. “We won’t trouble to light the lamp 
till we get through talking. I like the dark myself, 
when ’tis a starry night.” 

“ So do I,” said Felicia very softly. “ Oh, Mrs. Top- 
ham, wasn’t it a beautiful happening when you and I 
took the same train to Blackberry Hill, and were 
friends right away ? ” 


CHAPTER IX 


LOREENA PARKS 

When Felicia woke on Sunday morning she lay for 
a little while thinking of Mrs. Topham’s talk with her 
in the dusk of the old kitchen, and of the many wise 
things her friend had said to her. 

“Just to go on doing the best I can,” said Felicia 
happily, “ and try not to think about what people may 
be saying, and remember that she and Mr. Topham 
will ‘ stand by.’ I don’t believe I shall forget that. 
And not ever worry because father isn’t like Dr. Jar- 
vis, not ever — for he couldn’t be! and Dr. Jarvis 
had his failings, she said, just as everybody else has.” 

“ I can’t see what father’s failings are,” she thought 
when breakfast was over, and she was brushing her 
soft hair to make it as smooth as possible. “ He does 
forget things, but that is only funny. Perhaps Dr. 
Jarvis forgot other things ; at any rate I don’t need to 
worry about him, or any of the other ministers or 
their wives or the young ladies they meant to marry. 
Mrs. Topham said so.” 

She tied the brown bow on her hair and slipped on 
her little brown Sunday dress, and was ready as soon 
as the minister. 

“ You look like one of the little thrushes Mrs. Top- 

85 


86 


Felicia 


ham told us about last night,” said her father as they 
walked the few steps that took them to the church 
door, where they separated, and Felicia smiled her 
good bye. 

It was an old church with a wide, dusky entrance 
hall between the outer and inner doors. Groups of 
people were standing, talking, and at one end of the 
space there was a winding stairway up which three 
young women were going, with their heads turned to 
look at Felicia. One of them said something to the 
boy who was pulling the dangling rope that rang the 
sweet-toned bell, with steady, even strokes. Felicia 
remembered his face and said “ good-morning ” to 
him. 

“Good-morning,” said the boy solemnly. “You’d 
better show her to the minister’s pew,” he added, over 
his shoulder to another boy who stood close behind 
him, in a black suit and tall white collar. 

The boy stepped forward, and opened the door for 
Felicia, and led the way up the central aisle, his shoes 
creaking loudly. When he reached the third pew 
from the front on the right hand side, he unbuttoned 
the little wooden door and waved Felicia to her seat, 
carefully buttoning the door again as soon as she was 
inside. 

Felicia had never been in such an old church before, 
and she looked curiously about her at the high pulpit, 
the stiff chairs, the queer blurred windows and the 
quaint old pews. Some of them had seats on three 


Felicia 


87 


sides, some on two, and others, like the one in which 
she sat, had only one long cushioned seat, with just 
room for one small person on a little crosswise cushion 
at the corner. 

“ Some minister must have had a little girl, or a 
little boy,” thought Felicia; “I wish whoever it was 
would come right into this pew to-day, and sit in the 
corner ; only of course they’d be dreadfully grown up 
now,” she added with a tiny sigh. 

The organ was in the low gallery at the back of the 
church. Felicia did not venture to turn her head far 
enough to see it, but she listened to the organ and 
loved it. She knew it was Miss Ellen Markham who 
played, and Felicia was glad to think it was one of her 
friends who made the music. 

The church filled quite rapidly after the organist be- 
gan to play ; in a few moments Mr. Lane came in and 
took his seat in one of the high-backed chairs. Felicia’s 
heart swelled with pride. 

“ That necktie looks beautiful, if I did wash and 
iron it in a hurry,” she told herself. “ I shan’t let 
Miss Loreena Parks or anybody do his neckties.” 

Mr. Lane had a fine, deep voice, and Felicia felt sure 
everybody in the church must enjoy hearing it as 
much as she did. She listened with delight to every 
word he spoke, whether it was in the reading of the 
hymns, part of the service, or his simple, practical 
sermon. 

When the congregation rose to sing the second 


88 


Felicia 


hymn, they turned about in their pews, to face the 
choir. Felicia saw the line of young men and women 
in the gallery looking down at her over the tops of 
their hymn-books. Behind them she could see Miss 
Ellen Markham’s hat, as she sat on the organ bench. 
The hymn was one with which the little girl was 
familiar, and she sang it in her clear, sweet voice with 
all her heart. Several people half turned in their 
pews to listen, but Felicia sang on, too happy to notice 
them. 

The minister’s text was the Golden Rule ; his ser- 
mon was simple and clearly expressed, and Felicia 
was sure nobody could help understanding it. She 
sat with her eyes fastened on her father’s face, the 
color in her soft cheeks growing brighter as she lis- 
tened. When the service was over and she stood for 
a moment, hesitating, in the pew, a small, brisk woman 
with her head muffled in a white scarf stepped across 
the aisle and held out her hand. 

“I’m Miss Parks — Loreena Parks,” said the little 
woman, “maybe you’ve heard of me.” 

She removed the scarf from one side of her head 
and turned her ear toward Felicia. 

“ Oh, yes’m,” Felicia spoke right into her ear, while 
she shook hands, “ I’m happy to see you.” 

Miss Parks squeezed her hand. 

“ My cold’s enough better so I can promise sure for 
to-morrow,” she said in a loud whisper. “ That was a 
fine sermon your father gave us. I could only catch 


Felicia 


89 


a word here and there, on account of having to 
guard against draughts, but what I got was all 
good.” 

“Thank you,” said Felicia, heartily. “And thank 
you for coming to-morrow, Miss Parks.” 

She saw that her new acquaintance was waylaid by 
several people as she went down the aisle, and that 
she shook her head vigorously at each person, and then 
jerked it toward Felicia. 

“ She’s telling them all she’s bound to you for to- 
morrow,” said a voice close beside her, and there stood 
Mrs. Topham, her kind face beaming, and her bonnet 
a little awry. 

“ You tell your father he’s given us something to 
think of till next Sunday,” she said as she held 
Felicia’s hand in her friendly clasp. “ If I hadn’t 
been delayed by Jenkins getting loose and chasing the 
hens this morning, so I was late coming in, I should 
have sat with you, let ’em say what they would. See 
here, why don’t you invite Winifred to sit with you 
Sunday mornings ? Mrs. Harlow can’t always get to 
church, and seems a pity for you two little girls to sit 
alone, one way front and one way back.” 

“ Oh, I’d love to have her,” said Felicia eagerly. 
“ May I, truly, Mrs. Topham ? ” 

“ I don’t know why not,” said her friend promptly ; 
“ it’s your pew and your say so. See, Winifred’s 
down there waiting to speak to you.” 

They started down the aisle together. When they 


9 ° 


Felicia 


reached the door the minister was there, greeting the 
people who had lingered to speak to him. Every one 
shook hands gravely with Felicia, and at last she 
turned to Winifred, who stood, silent and demure, 
just outside the door. 

“ Oh, I’m ever so glad to see you,” said Felicia shyly, 
and Winifred squeezed her hand. 

“ So am I to see you,” she said eagerly, “ and oh, 
Felicia, Bobby Simpson wants to know if we will go 
with him to-morrow ; he just asked me, and then he 
had to go out to the horse-sheds. Will you ? I can 
if you can.” 

“ Let me ask father, to be sure,” said Felicia. She 
went close to her father and watching her opportunity, 
she pulled his head down to hers and whispered in his 
ear. The minister nodded and smiled. 

“ Father says yes,” she told Winifred. “ Did Bobby 
say what time in the afternoon ? ” 

“ He’ll be at your house about three,” said Wini- 
fred. “ I’ll come up there and be all ready.” 

“That’ll be splendid,” said Felicia. “I hope it will 
be a beautiful day. Miss Loreena Parks is coming in 
the morning.” 

“ The minister’s folks can always get her,” said 
Winifred shrewdly, “ and she’ll like you, Felicia, be- 
side. If we were boys we’d have Sunday-school, or 
if there were more of us ; but Lucy James goes away 
a good deal, and she’s delicate, too, and can’t go out 
except when the weather’s just so. Mother hears me 


Felicia 


9i 

say my Sunday-school lesson right after dinner, and 
I must go now, or I’ll be late.” 

“ So shall I,” said Felicia, and the two little girls 
hurried out together. “Next Sunday, won’t you sit 
with me, Winifred ? ” asked Felicia as they stood for 
a moment at the parsonage gate. “ Mrs. Topham 
said it would be all right.” 

“ Oh, Felicia,” and Winifred clasped her friend’s 
hand so tightly that the little ring pressed against her 
finger. “ I never expected, all my days, to be asked 
to sit in the minister’s pew ! I guess mother will be 
as proud as proud can be when I tell her ! ” 


CHAPTER X 


A N OUTING WITH BOBBY 

Monday morning dawned clear and bright, and 
Felicia hurried her father down-stairs to an unusually 
early breakfast. 

“ You know Miss Loreena Parks is coining to wash, 
father,” she explained, “and she told me she’d be 
‘sharp on time,’ so I must be all ready.” 

“ Certainly,” assented the minister gravely. “ I 
will remove myself to the study at once and keep 
as still as possible.” 

Felicia laughed, but her father could see that she 
was really almost wishing him out of the way for 
once, so with an air of pretended reproach he shut 
himself into the study just as Miss Parks knocked 
at the kitchen door. She had on a thick skirt and 
jacket, and her head was wound about with a 
knitted shawl. She seemed too warmly dressed for 
such a mild morning, but it soon appeared that her 
thick clothing was only for outdoor wear. 

“ I have to cosset myself,” she said as she removed 
the shawl, the jacket, and slipping off the heavy skirt, 
stood in a loose blue and white striped calico, the 
sleeves of which she rolled way above the elbow and 
pinned securely in place. 


92 


Felicia 


93 


“ There, now I’m ready for anything ! ” she an- 
nounced cheerfully. “ What’s in the tubs ? ” 

She fell to work with great good will, talking 
steadily all the while and seldom requiring any word 
from Felicia. 

“ I spoke with your bird as I came up to the porch,” 
said Miss Parks, as she rubbed one of the sheets with 
energy ; “ he looked at me real pleasant, but he wasn’t 
inclined to talk much ; just said ‘ well, well,’ and went 
on dressing his feathers. I don’t know why a bird 
shouldn’t have his times of wanting to keep to him- 
self, same as anybody else ; they’ve got some self- 
respect, most likely. He’s a handsome creature as 
ever I saw, and I’m glad you have him. I wish 
he’d talk right out once while I’m here, but I 
shouldn’t want him urged.” 

Felicia listened delightedly to the stream of con- 
versation which flowed from the lips of Miss Parks, 
and heard many stories of the place and people. 
When she helped hang out the clothes on the reel, 
and twirled it around under Miss Parks’ directions, 
so that “ each piece might hang in the best place for 
it,” she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Cope standing at 
one of her windows, and Miss Parks saw her too. 

“ It’s a real trial to Lydia Cope that I haven’t got 
her curtains done up yet,” said Miss Parks, with a 
clothes-pin between her teeth ; “ when she has them 
hung up, she can press close to the windows, and there 
can’t a thing get by her without being well looked 


94 


Felicia 


over, but whilst the windows are bare she has to stand 
pretty well back in the room, and she loses somebody 
now and then. Oh, well, she has her points ; she’s neat 
as a pin, and means all right most of the time.” 

“ She’s being very kind to me about the garden,” 
said Felicia loyally ; “ she helped me choose seeds and 
plan places for them and everything. We expect 
they’ll come some day this week.” 

Miss Parks hung the last piece on the line, gave 
the clothes-reel a final swing, and rubbed her hands. 

“ There ! ” she said briskly, “ that’s done. Every- 
thing will be dry in this sun and breeze, so they can 
be taken in soon as dinner ’s over, and I’ll set right to 
on the ironing ; I calculate to give you the most of 
Mondays — all you need. But I believe while they’re 
drying I’ll run over to Lydia Cope’s and do up those 
curtains. What do you say ? Or do you want I 
should help clear up the kitchen ? ” 

“ Oh, no, Miss Parks,” said Felicia earnestly, “ please 
run over to Mrs. Cope’s ; she’d be so glad to see you.” 

“ She’s been seeing me — at a distance, for some 
time,” said Miss Parks. “ I’ll run over just as I am ; 
if I’m not back sharp on time for dinner, you’ll know 
I stayed with her. What time do you have dinner ?” 

“ At half-past twelve,” said Felicia proudly, “ just 
the regular Blackberry Hill time, Miss Parks ; and I 
put my potatoes in by the whistle of the potato 
train.” 

“ You’re a complete little housekeeper,” said Miss 


Felicia 


95 

Parks approvingly ; then she set off across the path, to 
Mrs. Cope’s house. 

She stayed with Mrs. Cope for dinner, but while 
Felicia was hurriedly wiping the dishes, she opened 
the door, seized the big clothes-basket, and in a few 
moments reappeared with it brimming over with 
snowy linen. 

“ I’ll sprinkle what needs it, and by the time I get 
to ’em again they’ll be ready for the iron,” she an- 
nounced. “ You’re going off for a ride with the Simp- 
son boy and Winifred, I understand.” 

“Yes, Miss Parks,” said Felicia; “don’t you think 
we’ll have a nice time ? ” 

“ I told Lydia Cope I wished I was free so I could 
catch on behind and go with you,” said Miss Parks. 
“ But there ! I’m so afflicted with colds it would 
never do for me to go rushing through the air these 
spring days.” 

“ Miss Parks thinks you have a pretty fast horse, I 
guess,” said Felicia to Bobby Simpson when he drove 
up to the door and she ran out with Winifred to climb 
up into the wagon. 

She repeated the remark Miss Parks had made and 
Bobby heard it gravely. He looked at the steady old 
horse with great pride, but made no comment. When 
the two little girls were in the wagon, one on each 
side, he sat a trifle forward and paid strict attention 
to his driving until they had reached the foot of the 
hill. Winifred looked mischievously at Felicia behind 


9 6 


Felicia 


his back, as she told the minister’s little girl about the 
different houses they passed. At last Bobby spoke. 

“ Never can tell when a horse ’ll stumble, no matter 
how sure-footed he is,” said Bobby. “ The only way 
to do is to keep a firm, loose hold on the reins, so ’s 
you can pull him up when there’s occasion, and ’tend 
right to your business.” 

“I know where you learned that,” said Winifred. 
“ Mr. Topham taught you every word of it.” 

“ Supposing he did,” retorted Bobby ; “ it’s true as 
true can be, I reckon,” and'he looked half-offended. 

“ Don’t be cross, Bobby,” said Winifred ; “ Felicia 
and I are just as pleasant ! ” 

Then they all three laughed, not that there was 
anything really to laugh at, but because they were 
happy to be out in the lovely spring weather, taking a 
holiday. They drove past the last of the village 
houses, and turned off on a road lined with great 
willows whose branches met and interlaced. 

“ It’s pretty in summer,” said Bobby ; “ some day 
when it’s hot and I have to go for grain, maybe I’ll 
take you again, and you see how nice and shady ’tis 
here.” 

“ You’re turned toward Felicia,” objected Winifred ; 
“ shan’t you ask me, too, Bobby ? ” 

“ I guess I’m not so impolite I’d invite one young 
lady when there was another ’round to hear, unless I 
meant ’em both,” returned Bobby with spirit, and they 
laughed again. 


Felicia 


97 


“ Over there’s where Silas Gregg, the hermit, lives,” 
and Bobby pointed with his whip to an old house at 
the edge of a pine grove, across a field. A scarcely 
distinguishable road led to it. 

“ Is he a real hermit ? ” asked Felicia. “ Doesn’t he 
ever speak to anybody or go anywhere ? And does he 
live on bread and water ? ” 

“ He isn’t that kind of a hermit exactly,” said 
Bobby ; “ he just lives alone and doesn’t like to be 
bothered much, but he eats other things beside bread,” 

“ It’s just because his folks all died,” broke in Wini- 
fred, “ and he doesn’t want to live in the village any 
more. He just reads and reads, and he cooks for him- 
self and he gets plenty of the best, Mr. Fosdick says. 
He has lots and lots of money, and if he had a mind 
he could buy a new carpet and pew cushions for the 
church and paint it inside and out, and never feel it 1 
That’s what mother says.” 

“Does he go to church?” asked Felicia, her eyes 
big with excitement and wonder. 

“ Ho,” said Bobby and Winifred together. “ He 
doesn’t like ministers,” added Bobby. “ He says they 
talk too much, outside the pulpit. Leastways that’s 
what he told Mrs. Cope after she took the last one to 
see him ; she told Mrs. Topham ; that’s how I 
heard it.” 

The old gray house was almost out of sight ; Felicia 
turned around to look at it as long as she could. 

“I wonder if he’d like father and me,” she said 


9 8 


Felicia 


thoughtfully. “ We don’t talk so very much, and I 
should think he’d be pretty lonesome there, as long as 
he isn’t a real hermit.” 

“ I wish ’t he’d lend me some of his books to read,” 
said Bobby as they jogged along the road. “ I wouldn’t 
care if he just opened the door a crack and passed them 
out to me and never said a word. He had two boys, 
and Mrs. Cope says he has all the books they used to 
read, splendid ones.” 

“Do you love to read, Bobby?” asked Felicia 
gently. “I wish we had any boy’s books. We shall 
have when baby John is bigger, but you’ll be all grown 
up by that time.” 

“Thank you just the same,” said Bobby. “I wish 
there was a library in Blackberry Hill ; nights, after 
my work is done, I’d read every minute. I’ve read 
the Tophams’ books over and over till I know them 
by heart. Did you ever read ‘ Gulliver’s Travels,’ or 
‘ The Last of the Mohicans ’ ? ” 

“No,” said Felicia respectfully. “Are they very 
interesting ? ” 

“ They’re prime,” said Bobby, and he might have 
gone on to tell Felicia about the books if Winifred had 
not yawned so loud they knew she meant them to 
hear. 

“ Oh, dear,” she said dolefully, when they both turned 
to look at her, “ if you talk so solemn I shall go right 
to sleep, sitting up in this wagon ! What makes you 
talk about books when we’re outdoors ? ” 


Felicia 


99 


“We won’t,” said Felicia affectionately. The two 
little girls clasped hands behind Bobby, and then they 
all talked about the berry bushes and trees, and the 
cows they saw in the pastures, until they reached 
Green Corners, a much larger place than Blackberry 
Hill. 

“ But ’tisn’t half as pretty as home,” said Winifred 
as she and Felicia sat in the wagon while Bobby got 
his grain. “ Do you like it as much ? ” she asked 
eagerly. 

“O no,” said Felicia, “I like Blackberry Hill the 
best of any place I ever saw, Winifred.” 

“Bobby,” said Winifred, as they rode toward home 
again, eating a bag of pop-corn which Bobby had 
bought and gravely presented to them, “ Felicia likes 
Blackberry Hill the best of any place she ever saw. 
So she must stay in it, of course.” 

“ ’Course,” responded Bobby. “And you’ll like it 
better and better.” 

Felicia had lived in an ugly manufacturing town, 
except for the time she had spent in a small room in 
the city while her father was studying. She looked 
across the fields ; their delicate green stretched to the 
dark woods back of which rose the hills, showing misty 
blue in the afternoon light. She looked at Winifred’s 
bright face, and at Bobby’s sturdy back. She thought 
of her new friends, the Tophams, and Miss Ellen 
Markham, and of Mrs. Cope in her garden. She 
thought of Martin, on the sunny porch ; of the par- 


ioo Felicia 

sonage, with her father sitting before the study fire in 
the twilight. 

“ If mother — if they’ll only let us stay here, father 
and me, till mother comes back and we can all be here 
together,” said Felicia, “I shall think Blackberry 
Hill is the very most beautiful place in the whole 
world.” 


CHAPTER XI 


A TICKET TO HARLOWVILLE 

The next day was one to which both Felicia and 
Winifred had looked forward ever since they first saw 
each other. 

“ You’ve never visited anybody that lives in a rail- 
road station before, have you, Felicia?” demanded 
Winifred. “ No, I knew you hadn’t. Well, when you 
come down, you come right to the ticket office, just as 
if you were going off on a train, and see what hap- 
pens. Of course when the minister comes, at supper 
time, that will be different. He’ll go to the other 
door ; he knows, because he called on mother before 
you came. Don’t wear a very nice dress, Felicia, or 
we can’t play outdoors.” 

There was a train which stopped at Blackberry Hill 
at three o’clock in the afternoon ; it was half an hour 
before that time when Felicia and her father parted at 
the foot of the hill. Mr. Lane was to pay some visits 
and be at the station at six o’clock. 

“You won’t forget to ask about Mrs. Holland’s 
rheumatism, will you ? ” said Felicia, with a finger 
in one of her father’s buttonholes, as she stood on 
tiptoe to bid him good-bye. “ Mrs. Topham says she 
does enjoy talking about it above all other things. 

IOI 


102 


Felicia 


And do you suppose you’ll remember that Miss 
Gregg’s cold has kept her’ from singing in the choir 
the last two Sundays ? ” 

“ I shall do my very best, Felicia,” said the minister, 
patting her cheek. “ And I want you to promise me 
to remember only that you are a little girl spending 
the afternoon with another little girl, without any 
bothersome father or congregation on your shoulders.” 

Felicia laughed at him, but she promised, and in- 
deed when she reached the railroad station every- 
thing except the pleasure and novelty of her visit 
left her little head. Half a dozen people with bags 
or bundles were sitting in the waiting-room, and there 
were two trunks on the baggage truck. Felicia 
stepped up to the small grated window and tapped 
on it. 

Instead of Mrs. Harlow’s cheery face, she saw 
Winifred, her features drawn down to look as sober 
as possible, and a great pair of horn spectacle frames 
without any glasses, half-way down her short nose. 

“What do you want, little girl?” inquired Wini- 
fred, in a voice as much like her mother’s as she could 
make it. 

Felicia heard two or three of the women laugh and 
she had much ado to keep her own face straight ; 
but she wished to play the game Winifred had 
begun. 

“I’d like a ticket to Harlowville,” quavered Felicia, 
for Winifred looked so solemnly at her, and tapped 


Felicia 


103 

on the shelf with her pencil as if to hurry the 
answer. 

“ Very well,” said Winifred. She wrote something 
on a piece of paper, stamped it, and pushed it under 
the grating. “ Passengers for Harlow ville pay at the 
other end.” 

Felicia took the slip of paper, and read in Wini- 
fred’s big writing, 44 Step inside.” 

Winifred had turned her back and was apparently 
reading a newspaper. Felicia saw there was a door 
close to the little ticket window. She tried the 
handle, and it turned easily, opening the door. She 
stepped into the office, closing the door carefully. 
Winifred did not turn, but said over her shoulder in 
a whisper, “ Bolt it.” 

Felicia shot the bolt, and then Winifred, without 
turning, led the way through another door into the 
room beyond, where Mrs. Harlow stood waiting to 
welcome her guest. As the door closed Felicia found 
herself seized by Winifred who danced up and down 
with joy. 

44 O mother, Felicia played it just right!” she 
said. “Don’t you remember how the day I had Lucy 
James, she almost cried and said, 4 1 don’t want a 
ticket for any where, and I guess I’d better go home ! ’ 
and it took us ever so long to make her understand, 
and then she thought ’twas a very stupid, silly play.” 

44 Yes, I remember,” laughed Mrs. Harlow. 44 Lucy 
is a good little girl, but we ought to have known 


104 


Felicia 


better than to try such work with her. Now you 
two children have the best time you can. You show 
Felicia all your things, outdoors and in, Winifred, and 
don’t tire her all out, either.” 

Felicia and Winifred were swinging hands, looking 
at each other joyously. 

“ First of all,” said Winifred, “ we’ll go sit over in 
the corner and listen for the train,” and she took 
Felicia to a corner of the room where there was a low 
cushioned seat. 

“ We don’t know why it is, mother or I,” said 
Winifred, “ but if you sit very still here, and listen 
against the wall, you can hear the train way, way 
off. I’ll watch the clock and tell you when to begin 
to listen.” 

“ Has Mrs. Harlow always lived here in this pretty 
place, and attended to the trains ? ” asked Felicia as 
she looked about the bright, cheery room. There 
were three windows, several rocking-chairs, a small 
round table with a work-basket on it ; a big square 
table with magazines and papers, a low bookcase, 
pots of geraniums in the windows, and a glossy- 
leaved ivy in one corner. There was also a little 
stove with an open front in which shone a pair of 
brass andirons, short and chubby. They made Felicia 
think of Mrs. Topham, and she laughed outright. 

“ Mother’s lived here ever since Mr. Harlow died 
and she was left without means,” said Winifred with 
an old-fashioned air. “ That was before I came to 


Felicia 


10 5 


Blackberry Hill, you know. Mr. Harlow had been 
the station-master, and Mr. Wadleigh (that’s the con- 
ductor that brought you) had some influence, mother 
says, and he used it for her. And she can run this 
station just as well as anybody could, and since I came 
she isn’t lonesome, either.” 

“How did you come, Winifred, or would you rather 
not tell ? ” asked Felicia. 

“ Oh, I love to tell,” said Winifred. “ I was a double 
orphan only just three years old, and they were taking 
me up to the mountains with a lot of other Fresh Air 
children, some nice ladies were, for two weeks. And 
the train was delayed here by some trouble on the 
track beyond, and they let us get off to pick black- 
berries. Mrs. Harlow, mother she is now, invited us to 
pick and eat our fill. And I hid, because I wanted to 
eat some more, and they hurried off and didn’t miss 
me, for each lady thought the other one had put me 
on the train. 

“ Then, when they telegraphed back from the next 
station, mother went out and found me, half-asleep, all 
stained with blackberries, under a big bush, and she 
wanted me for her — very — own — then — and — there ! 
So they let her keep me.” 

“ Oh, that’s a splendid story ! ” said Felicia. “ Tell 
some more, please.” 

“Put your ear close to the wall and listen,” said 
Winifred. “I’ll tell more by and by.” 

Felicia did as she was bidden, and heard a faint, 


io6 


Felicia 


mysterious sound like the beating of a hammer, far, 
far away ; it grew steadily louder and louder ; at last 
the rails began to sing, then with a hoarse whistle and 
much puffing, the train slid along and the engine 
stopped, just beyond the station. 

“ Let’s look out of the windows, and if there’s any 
child on board that looks at us, we can wave our 
handkerchiefs,” said Winifred. “There, see that 
little girl ! I guess she wishes she lived in a railroad 
station.” 

“ I believe she’d be pretty glad if she could even 
visit in one,” said Felicia. “ I do think this is the 
most interesting house I was ever in, Winifred.” 

“ There’s an up-stairs to it, beside, and a kitchen,” 
said Winifred proudly. “ Soon as the train’s gone, 
I’ll show you. Here’s Mr. Wadleigh coming to our 
windows.” 

“ Glad to see you both,” said the conductor, press- 
ing his face first to one window and then to the other ; 
“ you’re good company, 111 be bound.” 

“ We are intimate friends,” said Winifred decidedly. 
“ Oh, Mr. Wadleigh, please wave to us as the train 
starts.” 

“ That always makes me feel grand and important,” 
she said to Felicia as the conductor gave not only a 
wave of his hand, but a gallant bow in their direction 
from the lower step of the train. 

“ It does me, too,” said Felicia. “ Should you like 
to have me come often, Winifred ? ” 


Felicia 


107 

“Just as often as ever you can,” said Winifred. 
“ Now come up-stairs.” 

It hardly seemed possible there could be so much 
room in the little station house, but there were Wini- 
fred’s toys and her little bed, close to Mrs. Harlow’s, 
her little bureau and Mrs. Harlow’s big one, and plenty 
of space to move around, beside. Felicia admired 
everything up-stairs ; and then she exclaimed with de- 
light over the kitchen. 

“ You could set it right down in the middle of the 
parsonage kitchen and scarcely notice it,” said Mrs. 
Harlow, much pleased at her little guest’s praise, “ but 
everything’s here. And you cast your eyes out that 
door at our excellent clothes yard. I hang out and 
dry between train hours, any fair day, a little at a 
time. It works all right, for there are three hours 
and a half clear, right in the sunniest time o’ day. 
Happens just the best way it could.” 

“Oh, Winifred,” said Felicia as the two little girls 
stepped out of the back door of the station living- 
room, out into the clothes yard, “ didn’t you choose 
just the very nicest place to be adopted ? And aren’t 
you glad ? ” 

Winifred’s mischievous face was grave for a mo- 
ment as she looked back at the door through which 
they had come. 

“ I guess I know how thankful I ought to be,” she 
said, waving her hand to Mrs. Harlow, whose face ap- 
peared at the back window. “ Last year there was a 


io8 


Felicia 


little Fresh Air girl that came through, blackberry 
time ; ’bout my size when I came, mother said she was. 
We wanted dreadfully to keep her, mother and I, but 
we hadn’t a single place to put her, mother said. 
But we shall keep track of her, mother and I, and 
some day she’ll have a good home ; we shall see to it. 
There, this is the very bush where mother found me.” 

The two little girls stood for a moment looking at 
the big scraggly bush with serious faces. Then Wini- 
fred put out her hand and picked off a dead twig. 

“ All the blackberries from this bush go to the Fresh 
Air children,” she said, “ and it’s the very biggest one 
of them all. Come, Felicia, I want to show you ray 
stone castle on the bank of the river; sometimes 
Pauline Eudora Sinclair (that’s my doll who generally 
stays in the box, because her clothes are too beautiful) 
is imprisoned there for hours and hours with Dinah 
Doorstop on guard, and I rescue her just at nightfall. 
It’s pretty exciting carrying her to her home across 
the moors.” 

“ I should think it would be,” laughed Felicia, for 
“ the moors ” were beset with brambles in most unex- 
pected places. “ Have you any more games made up, 
Winifred ? ” 

“ Ever and ever so many, and mother helps in some 
of them,” said Winifred. “ You see I haven’t had any 
children to play with down here, and we can’t have 
animals, for neither mother nor I would have a mo- 
ment’s peace for fear they’d be run over some day.” 


Felicia 


109 


“ You shall have Martin for a good long visit this 
summer, if your mother is willing,” said Felicia. “ I 
know he’d love to come.” 

“ Oh, that will be splendid,” cried Winifred. “ See 
my castle.” 

The castle was built of stones of many shapes and 
sizes, and Felicia looked at it with honest admiration. 

“ I don’t see how you could do it,” she said at last, / 
and Winifred obligingly took off the stones which 
made the turret and fitted them together again, to 
show just how the castle was built. 

It was a happy afternoon for both the little girls. 
The minister came to supper, and Winifred and Felicia, 
in long gingham aprons, washed and wiped the dishes 
afterward while Mrs. Harlow entertained her guest. 
Last of all, they sat in the living-room with the lamp 
turned low for a minute or two to watch the great 
headlight of the express train as it rushed past the 
station on its way north. 

“Have you had a good time?” asked Winifred 
eagerly as Felicia was putting on her hat. “ Do you 
want to come again ? Oh, Felicia, I hope you’ll stay 
in Blackberry Hill till we are both old ladies.” 

“ So do I,” said Felicia, “ and we will spend days 
together and talk over all the happy times we’ve had.” 

“ So we will,” said Winifred. “ Oh, Felicia, if you’d 
been grown up, the way they expected you were, I 
don’t know what I should have done ! ” 


CHAPTER XII 


AN OUT-OF-DOORS PERSON 

As the days went on, Felicia found more and more 
to do, indoors and out. She must keep the house in 
as good order as possible with the aid of Miss Loreena 
Parks, who had offered to help “ whenever she had 
any spare time,” and who had twice appeared unex- 
pectedly and swept the parsonage from garret to cellar. 

“ I like that little girl of yours,” she announced to 
Mr. Lane one day, as she entered the study, broom 
in hand. “ I’ve got the best of my cold, this spring, 
and I’m intending to see to it that she isn’t over- 
worked. I’ve sent her out to look at her garden seeds 
now, with Lydia Cope, so’s to have Lydia out from 
under foot. Haven’t you got something you can 
ponder on, out on the porch, while I clean up 
here ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said Mr. Lane, quickly gathering his 
papers and leaving the study in the energetic hands 
of Miss Parks, of whom he stood in considerable awe. 

“ For a person that’s deaf, and hasn’t means enough 
to live without working, Loreena Parks is the most 
independent piece that ever I saw,” grumbled Mrs. 
Cope, in the garden, to Felicia. “Who’s she that she 
no 



THE FROWN CLEARED FROM HER FACE 



Felicia 1 1 1 

takes it upon herself to shoo me out of that kitchen as 
if I was a hen ? ” 

“ Oh, Mrs. Cope,” cried Felicia, whose face was crim- 
son, as she bent over the bed in which some of her 
seeds had been planted, “ please, please, what is this 
coming up now ? ” 

“Let me see,” and Mrs. Cope pushed her to one 
side, but not ungen tly, while the frown cleared from 
her face. 

“ That ? That’s one of the white petunias, I do be- 
lieve. Well, the soil was just right for them, as I told 
you; if folks are willing to take advice from those 
that have had experience, they’ll find it pays in the 
long run ; but mostly those that set out on new enter- 
prises are headstrong. What’s that I see over there ? 
Well, I must say they’re smart; that’s a little clump 
of oriental poppies starting, brisk as you please.” 

“ Here’s where we put the mignonette,” said Felicia, 
pointing to some little stakes which marked off a small 
piece of ground, “ but they haven’t come up.” 

“ Mignonette takes its own time,” said Mrs. Cope 
with authority ; “ if we get a good soaking rain and 
then seasonable heat, you’ll maybe see it springing up, 
thick as spatter. Same with the corn-flowers over 
there. Candytuft is a little more forth-putting ; but 
they all need a smart shower, settling into a rain. 
Air seems a little thundry to me to-day, and my head 
feels that way, too. That smoke tree’s going to be 
handsome this year ; I can tell by the way it’s starting 


112 


Felicia 


out, and the Scotch mist, too. We shall have an un- 
usually hot summer, I believe, with plenty of showers. 
That’s what makes a garden grow.” 

She rose from her knees and looked up at the 
sky. 

“ There are some thunder-heads,” she said with evi- 
dent satisfaction, pointing toward the west. “ Those 
may blow over, but they’ll keep coming, farther and 
farther over ; we’ll catch it before night. I must be 
going home now. You look kind of pale, Felicia. 
You’ve breathed in too much of that woman’s dust, 
most likely. I refer to Loreena Parks.” 

“ Oh, no’m,” said Felicia hastily. “ Mrs. Cope, do 
they have very bad thunder-storms here in Blackberry 
Hill?” 

“That depends,” and Mrs. Cope glanced at her 
sharply. “ Sometimes the river divides them, and we 
only get the edge ; then again they back in, and we 
have a real cracker. I don’t suppose you fear thunder 
and lightning, do you ? A minister’s daughter.” 

It was a hard moment for the little girl as she 
looked up at the keen-eyed questioner. 

“ Yes’m,” she said slowly, “ I’ve always been afraid 
when there’s a bad storm. Father has talked to me 
about it,” she said, spurred on by the expression on 
Mrs. Cope’s face, “ and mother has, too ; and I’m real 
ashamed — but I’m afraid.” 

“ Doesn’t seem very fitting for one that’s the head 
of a minister’s household at present, to be in terror of 


Felicia 


1 13 

the elements,” said Mrs. Cope in her chilliest tone. 
“ However, we live and learn.” 

“ Perhaps I shall learn,” protested the little girl, 
loth to let her neighbor go in such a disapproving 
mood. “ I think maybe I shan’t be as much afraid 

this summer when I’m ” She stopped, but her 

words had scarcely been noticed by Mrs. Cope, who 
said a hasty good-bye, and started across the path to 
her home. 

“ I was going to say i when I’m thirteen,’ ” said 
Felicia to her father, telling him of the conversation, 
“ but then I remembered just in time that mother says 
birthdays are really for families and intimate friends, 
and I’m afraid Mrs. Cope might have thought I was 
forward ; she says most children are, and a great many 
grown people. But she disapproved of me, anyway, 
father, on account of the thunder-storms. Do you 
suppose she’ll tell people I’m not a fit helpmate on 
that account ? ” 

“ Some day my little girl will outgrow her fear ; 
I’m sure she tries very hard to overcome it,” said the 
minister gently, and Felicia was comforted for the 
time. 

The expected thunder-shower came, but it was not 
a severe one, and Felicia, sitting close beside her 
father, felt quite brave and much encouraged. She 
even ventured to stand at the window as the storm 
clouds rolled away, though she could not have said 
she liked to do it. 


ii4 


Felicia 


“ Smell the air,” said her father, when the rain had 
ceased, and they opened the doors again. “ Isn’t it 
well worth the shower, Felicia, to have such sweet 
air ? ” 

“ Ye-es, I suppose it is, father,” said Felicia. “ I 
try to think about the after part when the sky is so 
dark and it’s thundering and lightning, but I can’t 
seem to remember then just how it smells.” 

The minister laughed at her, and Felicia laughed 
too, after a minute, in spite of herself. Then they 
went out into the garden, for Felicia could not help 
thinking her mignonette might have come springing 
up in the midst of the shower. She showed all her 
little green treasures to her father, and explained to 
him just how the garden would look when the flowers 
were all in bloom. 

“ Here are fleur-de-lis and the different kinds of tall 
lilies, father,” she said, “ just the way they’ve stood 
for years and years ; and that clump is London Pride, 
and that’s pale blue larkspur, and that’s dark blue, 
and the farthest off one is monks-hood, and that’s a 
Scotch rose.” 

“Very lovely, they’ll all be, no doubt,” said the 
minister as Felicia stopped to take breath. 

“ And here in front is to be a border of candytuft on 
both sides,” Felicia went on. “Then in that bed are 
marigolds, little velvety ones, bronze and gold and 
red all mixed, and mignonette and asters. Over there 
it’s to be all white petunias, and the other side asters. 


Felicia 


115 

That little round bed in the shady place is for pansies. 
Mrs. Cope gave me some and Mrs. Topham will give 
me some more. And that longest bed will be all pop- 
pies and corn-flowers, father, scarlet and blue, with 
maybe a few other colors, we can’t tell surely yet.” 

“ 1 should say you were doing wonders,” said the 
minister, who had turned obediently to the right and 
left as Felicia’s little hand waved his attention from 
bed to bed. “ And how kind Mrs. Cope is.” 

“ Isn’t she ? ” said Felicia earnestly. “ She seems so 
different when she’s in the garden, father ; don’t you 
suppose there might be people who were almost meant 
to live right out in the bushes and plants ? ” 

The minister brushed his hand across his mouth be- 
fore he answered Felicia. Then he spoke seriously 
enough. 

“It might be so,” he said, and Felicia nodded her head. 

“ I think it is,” she said, “ but they can’t, of course, 
on account of the weather ; and people bother them 
because they don’t do as you’d expect. But father,’’ 
she came to a standstill on the front door-step, holding 
the minister’s hand tightly, “ she likes her starched 
curtains, and good things to eat. Maybe after all, she 
was meant for a house, with a good deal of outdoors. 
Father, you aren’t really listening to me.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said the minister, but he looked a little 
confused, and Felicia led him into the house and pre- 
tended to put him into his big chair in the study as if 
he were very feeble, and needed care. 


Felicia 


116 

But before Felicia could run away the minister put 
out his long arms and drew her down to the little has- 
sock which was close beside his chair. 

“ Sit there, dear,” said the minister, “ and let us 
talk about the calls we are to make to-morrow, you in 
your Sunday best, and I with one of those beautiful 
neckties; and then when we’ve settled those important 
questions, we’ll talk about mother and baby John, and 
read over the letter that came yesterday.” 

“ And pop some corn, father,” begged Felicia. “ No- 
body will call to-night, I know, for they’ve all been 
once, and it’s too damp for Mrs. Cope. And I don’t 
see why we couldn’t have a little bowl of molasses, 
and dip the corn in, and eat it out of spoons, father. 
Why couldn’t we ? ” 

“ Felicia,” said the minister severely, “ you surprise 
me.” Then his eyes twinkled. “ If you will make me 
a large newspaper bib,” he said, “ I really do not see 
any good reason, myself, why we couldn’t — and we 
will.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


A LESSON FOR MARTIN 

“ Martin,” said Felicia the next afternoon as she 
stood waiting for her father to come down-stairs, “ if 
I could trust you not to scream out, the way Mrs. 
Cope says you do when you’re left alone, I’d put you 
out on the porch, but I don’t dare.” 

Martin looked sulkily at her for a minute ; then he 
gave a hoarse chuckle. 

“ Paul Pry ! ” said Martin. “ Paul Pry ! Paul Pry ! 
Very well.” 

“ Why, Martin Lane,” cried Felicia, “ where did you 
learn that ? Did Miss Loreena Parks say it to you ? 
Ho, I’m sure she wouldn’t, but you overheard her, 
I’m afraid. Oh, Martin, you mustn’t ever say that 
again.” 

“ Paul Pry ! ” chuckled the parrot. “ Paul Pry ! ” 

“ Then I can’t even leave the window open the way 
I’d planned,” said Felicia regretfully. “ Oh, Martin, 
why can’t you be nice to Mrs. Cope, just as well as to 
all the other people? Then maybe she’d like you, 
the way Winifred does, and Mrs. Topham and Miss 
Markham and Miss Loreena Parks.” 

The parrot reached out his claw and hooked it 
gently around Felicia’s finger. 

IX 7 


n 8 Felicia 

“Martin is a gentleman,” he declared. “Very 
well.” 

“ It will have to be very well now, for father is 
coming down-stairs and we must go right away,” said 
Felicia regretfully. “ Good-bye, Martin.” 

“ What can we do about it?” she asked her father 
when she had told him Martin’s new words. “ Sup- 
pose he ever said it to Mrs. Cope. I guess then she’d 
tell everybody I wasn’t a fit helpmate, not to train 
him better.” 

Mr. Lane’s forehead wrinkled, but he could not help 
smiling. 

“We shall have to hope Martin will forget, and 
perhaps I’d better — er — mention the circumstance in 
Miss Parks’ hearing, some day when she is with us,” 
said the minister. 

“ That would be to-morrow,” said Felicia, “ but it’s 
easier to teach Martin, than to un teach him, father.” 

“ In that respect he’s not very different from most 
people,” said Mr. Lane. “ Now here we are at the 
Markhams’ gate, Felicia. Is there anything you par- 
ticularly wish me to remember here ? ” 

Felicia pressed her father’s arm as they walked up 
the little path together. 

“ You don’t have to remember anything here, 
father,” she said joyfully. 

They had a delightful call, for while Mrs. Mark- 
ham talked to the minister about his last sermon and 
the choir and other matters connected with the 


Felicia 


119 


church, Miss Susan and Miss Ellen took Felicia out 
into the garden, and showed her their great white 
lilac bush, and offered her slips from a wide-spreading 
rose geranium. They also listened with much interest 
while Felicia told of the little growing things in her 
own garden. 

“ I don’t know when Mrs. Cope has had such a good 
time before,” said Miss Ellen, and Felicia’s heart gave 
a throb of gratitude. 

“ Oh, I’m so glad,” she said softly. “ Thank you 
very much for telling me, Miss Ellen.” 

“ Why, bless her little heart,” said Miss Ellen, and 
she picked a long spray of the white lilac and tucked 
it in Felicia’s hand. 

“ Did you know we are to have the pleasure of the 
next sewing circle at the parsonage ? ” Mr. Lane was 
asking Mrs. Markham at the same moment. “ Felicia 
is so anxious to entertain the ladies who have all been 
most kind to her, and Miss Parks has offered tohelpher.” 

“ I think it will be about the pleasantest afternoon 
we’ve ever had,” said Mrs. Markham cordially. “ The 
last minister’s wife was so delicate we never met there, 
and some of the other ministers weren’t married, or 
didn’t stay long enough. I don’t know when we’ve 
been entertained at the parsonage. You and Felicia 
will have a houseful, rain or shine.” 

“Everybody seemed pleased, father, didn’t they?” 
asked Felicia as she half-danced along toward home in 
the dusk, with her father. 


120 


Felicia 


“ They certainly did,” assented the minister. “ Did 
Miss Tweedle ask you about your studies, Felicia ? 
Mrs. Lambkin seems rather disturbed that there is no 
school here for you and Winifred.” 

“ I told Mrs. Lambkin once before, at the sewing 
circle that you taught me an hour every day, and that 
you knew everything,” said Felicia. “ Miss Tweedle 
only asked me if I knew history, and so I just said the 
English kings to her and our Presidents, and a few 
dates, and she said, ‘ Mercy on me, child, don’t tell me 
any more ! ’ so she saw what a good teacher I had.” 

“ Mrs. Harlow takes great pains with Winifred, 
too,” said the minister. “ Perhaps as there are two of 
you now, you might go to the district school for a 
term next fall, if all is well.” 

“ With fifteen boys, father ! ” cried Felicia. 
“ Wouldn’t you be afraid we would grow to be tom- 
boys?” 

“ Ho,” said the minister, smiling, “ not a bit afraid, 
Felicia. It might do you good, and I’m sure it would 
not hurt the boys.” 

As they reached their own gate, they saw the Top- 
hams’ wagon standing there, with Bobby sitting up- 
right, whistling softly. 

“ Good-evening,” said the minister and Felicia. 
Bobby rose and took off his hat, keeping a firm hold 
on the reins as he stood. 

“ Good-evening,” he said. “ I waited, because Mrs. 
Cope’s been over twice to speak to me, and she told 


Felicia 


121 


me she could sight you from one of her windows, 
making calls, and as soon as you’d been to Mrs. Jor- 
dan’s you’d come home ; and I had a message for 
Felicia.” 

It was a long speech for Bobby and he paused for 
breath. 

“ Yes,” said Felicia, pressing close to the wagon in 
her eagerness. “ Please go on, Bobby.” 

“ Silas Gregg has been asking Mr. Fosdick about 
you,” said Bobby. “ He thinks you must look some- 
thing like his little granddaughter that lives way out 
west, that he’s never seen, by what Mr. Fosdick tells 
him. He’s got a pretty picture of her. And he’d like 
you to come to see him. Mr. Fosdick told Mr. Top- 
ham ’twas the first time he’d ever heard him express a 
wish to see anybody. Mr. Topham said he’d drive 
you over to-morrow, if you could go ; he’s going past 
there on an errand.” 

“ Oh, I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed,” said Felicia, 
“ for I’m not very pretty, you know, Bobby. Has he 
ever seen Winifred ? ” 

“ You look all right to me,” said Bobby sturdily ; 
“ don’t she look all right enough ? ” he appealed to the 
minister, through the dusk. “ He don’t care to have 
Winifred come ; she has light hair.” 

“ Oh,” said Felicia, much relieved, “if it’s just be- 
cause he wants to see a dark-haired little girl, maybe 
I’ll do. Shall I go, father ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” said the minister after a moment’s hes- 


122 


Felicia 


itation. “ I see no reason why you shouldn’t, if it will 
please the old man. I suppose he does not care to see 
me.” 

Bobby sat down in haste, and twisted uncomfortably 
before he spoke. 

“ He — he doesn’t seem to feel drawn toward minis- 
ters,” he blurted out in evident distress. “ Mrs. Top- 
ham says it’s because — she said she thought ’twould be 
wise to let Felicia go alone the first time,” he finished. 
“ There, I guess I’ve said that all wrong ! ” 

“ Ho, indeed, you’ve said it exactly right,” and the 
minister held out his hand and shook Bobby’s warmly. 
“ You thank Mr. and Mrs. Topham, and tell them 
Felicia will be happy to go to-morrow if it is a fair 
day.” 

“ Oh, father,” said Felicia, “ when I see him maybe I 
shall be frightened and he’ll be sorry he asked me to 
come, if he is as cross as Mrs. Cope says.” 

“ I imagine he is not ‘ cross ’ at all, Felicia,” said the 
minister, reassuringly. “He is probably just a sad, 
lonely old man.” 

“ Would you advise me to take something to him, 
father ? ” asked Felicia. “ Oh, I know what ! I’ll 
take him some of the flowering almond sprays, and 
they’ll last in his room for days and days, till I go 
again, maybe.” 

The minister decided not to interfere with any of 
her plans, and indeed it seemed to him that Felicia, 
with her bright eyes and soft pink cheeks, bearing the 


Felicia 


12 3 


sprays of flowering almond, would make a picture 
charming enough to win the heart of any hermit. 
The little girl could scarcely talk or think of anything 
but the coming visit until the next afternoon, when 
Mr. Topham drove up to the gate. 

“ I’m all ready, Mr. Topham,” called Felicia, from 
the almond bush, cutting the last spray. 

The minister helped her into the wagon, and watched 
it till it rattled out of sight. 

“ If that old hermit doesn’t give over his lonesome 
ways and come back to living when he sees her, I 
miss my guess,” remarked Miss Parks who was iron- 
ing in the kitchen, but wandered to the study door for 
a moment to speak her mind. 

“You like Felicia, I think,” said the minister, look- 
ing kindly at her, and speaking clearly so she need not 
miss a word. 

“ Like her ! ” echoed Miss Parks. “ I’d like to see 
anybody dare to make trouble for that little thing 
whilst I’m around ; that’s all I’ve got to say ! ” 

“ Oh, Miss Parks,” the minister stopped her as she 
turned toward her work again, “ I — we — have you 
noticed Martin’s saying ‘ Paul Pry ’ ? ” 

“ I have,” said Miss Parks, with a mutinous expres- 
sion. “ It’s pretty appropriate, too, sometimes. He’s 
a smart bird.” 

“ Yes,” said the minister gravely. “ He is so smart, 
Miss Parks, that we have to be very careful what 
we say in his hearing. Felicia is worried about his 


124 


Felicia 


muttering ‘ Paul Pry ’ as he has many times, lately. 

We don’t know where he learned it, unless ” 

“ You’re on the right track,” said Miss Parks with 
heightened color. “ I didn’t set out to teach him, I 
just relieved my feelings, and I believe that bird’s re- 
lieving his the same way. But I’ll never say it again 
if it bothers Felicia, never ! ” 

She turned and marched out to the kitchen where 
Martin sat enthroned on the shelf over the ironing-table. 

“ How’s Paul ? ” began the parrot, but Miss Parks in- 
terrupted him. 

“ I’ll teach you something better’n that, Martin,” she 
coaxed him. “ You say 4 Haughty Loreena, naughty 
Loreena ’ after me, and I’ll give you something good 
to eat. Hear me now — 4 Haughty Loreena ! ’ That 
has the right sound to you, I know by the way you’re 
looking down at me. And if I choose to have you say 
it, that’s nobody else’s affair. Come now, say 
‘ Haughty Loreena ! Haughty Loreena ! ’ ” 

“Horlreena, Horlreena,” said Martin, and though 
his pronunciation left something to be desired, he said 
it with great relish. 

“ That’s right,” said Miss Parks, thumping an iron 
on the stove. “ That’s our lesson, and we’ll keep at 
it till you get it by heart. My patience, here comes 
Lydia Cope. How, Martin Lane, into the closet you 
go while she’s here, for I’m not sure of you yet. How 
d’y’ do, Lydia ? Is this kitchen fearful hot ? My face 
feels as if ’twas on fire ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV 


VISITING A HERMIT 

As they drove through the village Mr. Fosdick was 
standing in the doorway of his shop, brushing the dust 
from a big straw hat. 

“ How d’y’ do,” he said cordially, and Mr. Topham 
drew rein for a moment to let him speak to Felicia. 
“ How you getting on at the parsonage ? ” he asked 
the little girl. “ I thought if I kep’ on brushing this 
hat long enough maybe I’d see you ride by. I’m party 
to your going, I s’pose you know.” 

“ Yes, I know,” said Felicia reaching down her small 
hand to grasp his big one. “ I think we are getting 
on beautifully, Mr. Fosdick, and we have splendid 
news from mother, too.” 

“ I took notice the last letter was a good fat one,” 
said the shopkeeper. “ I’m not a man that would 
make talk about it,” he added quickly. “ I just no- 
ticed, that’s all.” 

“I’m glad you did,” said Felicia politely. “Oh, 
Mr. Fosdick, father and I are the ones who’ll have 
the next sewing circle, and father said I might spe- 
cially invite you to supper. It will be next Wednes- 
day ; you won’t forget, will you, Mr. Fosdick ?” 

He took a large black leather-covered diary from 
125 


126 


Felicia 


his pocket, removed the rubber band which encircled 
it, and turned the pages with an absorbed air. When 
he had reached the proper page, he wrote something 
on it with a stubby pencil and snapping the rubber 
band in place, returned the book to his pocket. 

“ It so happened,” he remarked gravely, “ that I 
hadn’t made any other engagement for supper that 
night, or for the evening. They are yours now, set 
down in black and white, and no going back on what’s 
written. I’m obliged to you.” 

“ I’m obliged to you, too,” said Felicia, and with an- 
other hand-shake they said good-bye, and Mr. Topham 
drove on. 

“ I love to hear him talk, don’t you ? ” asked Felicia, 
and her companion smiled benevolently and agreed 
with her. 

“ I’ve known him, man and boy,” said Mr. Topham, 
“ aud he’s good all through, besides having plenty o’ 
fun in him.” 

As they approached the place in the road from 
which the grass-grown path led across a field to the 
old house at the edge of the wood, Mr. Topham began 
to whistle as loud as he could. He whistled beauti- 
fully, Felicia thought, and told him so. 

“ I used to do it at the social gatherings when I was 
a young man, and there wasn’t other music to be had,” 
said Mr. Topham, much gratified at her praise. “ ’Tis 
my only gift, and I don’t know as you could call it 
that.” 


Felicia 


127 


“ Oh, yes, I think it’s a lovely gift,” said Felicia. 
“ Please, Mr. Topham, won’t you whistle some pieces 
after supper next Wednesday evening ? ” 

“ I’ll see what my wife thinks about it,” said Mr. 
Topham. “ I have one selection that represents a bird 
trilling, near and then far off. I don’t know as I’ve 
lost the knack of it. Winters, when I’m off in the 
wood lot, I’ve kept it up more or less, just for com- 
pany.” 

“ Oh, I do think that would be perfectly splendid ! ” 
cried Felicia. “ I’m sure Mrs. Topham will say yes.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if she did,” assented Mr. Top- 
ham. “ How I’ll give a kind of a call.” 

He whistled a long, musical note, ending it with a 
turn and little flourish, to Felicia’s great delight. 

“ There, that brought him,” said Mr. Topham. “ See, 
he’s come to the door. He used to like to hear me 
whistle before he went off to live by himself. You 
run across the path now, and have a little visit with 
him. I’ll stop for you on my way back, and whistle. 
Give him my best regards.” 

As Felicia reached the house, Mr. Gregg stepped 
down to meet her. To the little girl’s comfort she 
saw that the eyes under the shaggy white eyebrows, 
though unusually keen, regarded her not ungently. 
And it seemed to her that, although the hermit’s 
mouth was hidden by his beard, he was really almost 
smiling at her. 

“ So you are the minister’s little girl,” he said in a 


128 Felicia 

deep, but not harsh or unpleasant voice, and he held 
out his hand. 

“ Yes, sir, I’m Felicia Lane.” She shook his hand 
and then put the sprays of flowering almond in it. 
“ I knew you didn’t have any of this, for Mrs. Top- 
ham says ours is the only bush in Blackberry Hill. 
Don’t you think it’s pretty, Mr. Gregg ? ” 

The old man looked at the sprays in his hand, and 
then, turning, he invited Felicia to follow him into 
the house. 

“We must find a vase for this,” he said, and Felicia 
noticed how carefully his words were spoken, not hur- 
ried or clipped like those of her Blackberry Hill 
friends. “ Father said he was a reader and a scholar,” 
thought Felicia as she followed him ; “ that’s why he 
talks the way father does.” 

The house was quite bare, but to Felicia’s surprise 
it was as neat as could be. The chairs were few and 
there were no ornaments and only one or two pictures, 
but everywhere, on the window sills, tables, and on 
shelves which lined the walls, were books. In scarlet 
and gold and blue they stood, making light and color 
in the great bare room, which occupied the entire first 
floor of the old house. Mr. Gregg had taken out all 
the partitions ; even his kitchen was in the shed, sep- 
arated from the main house by a short passage. 

From a corner cupboard the hermit took a queer, 
dark green vase, filled it with water from a great 
pitcher which stood on one of the tables, and put the 


Felicia 


129 

almond sprays in it, setting the vase on one of the 
window sills. 

“ The light will shine through it,” he said, half to 
himself. 

He looked at it for a moment and then turned to 
Felicia. 

“ Thank you,” he said. “ I’ve had no flowers for a 
long time. It was Mr. James Topham who brought 
you, was it not ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Felicia, “ and he sends his best re- 
gards, and he’ll whistle for me when he comes back.” 

“ He has a wonderful whistle,” said Mr. Gregg. “ I 
recall it well. He used to whistle ‘ Listen to the 
Mocking Bird,’ with all sorts of trills and twists. I 
remember once ” 

He stopped speaking, and his eyes had a far-away 
look, as if he no longer saw Felicia or the flowering 
almond sprays, or even the room in which he stood. 
The little girl waited, afraid to speak, for what seemed 
to her a long time, but at last he spoke again. 

“ Come,” he said, “ this is no way to entertain my 
guest. Let us sit down, and you must tell me some- 
thing about yourself.” 

“ I don’t know where to begin,” said Felicia. “ Oh, 
Mr. Gregg, I suppose I don’t look like your little 
granddaughter after all, or you’d have said so, right 
off.” 

“ Ho, I think there is no special resemblance,” he 
admitted, “but I am nevertheless glad to see you. 


130 Felicia 

You have rather an unusual position for a little 
girl.” 

Felicia was sitting in a low chair with a comfortable 
cushioned seat and back, but she leaned forward to- 
ward her host, with clasped hands and flushing 
cheeks. 

“Oh, Mr. Gregg,” she said, “you don’t know, 
maybe, how hard it is to be a fit helpmate for a min- 
ister when you won’t be thirteen till next week — 
there ! I didn’t mean to tell ! ” 

“ I shall not repeat it to any one, you may be cer- 
tain of that,” he reassured her. “ I should think it 
would be very hard indeed, as I remember the village 
of Blackberry Hill. What are the particular duties 
of a minister’s helpmate that you find most difficult ? ” 

“ He talks to me just as if I were grown up, and 
very wise,” thought Felicia, “ but his eyes are smiling, 
I’m sure.” 

She locked and unlocked her fingers as she talked, 
with her eager little face upturned to his. 

“ I think,” she said, drawing a long breath, “ that 
never interrupting father, and having meals exactly 
on time like Mrs. Cope, and keeping myself very neat 
so as always to be ready for callers, and remembering 
who has rheumatism and who has lumbago, so father 
can inquire right, when he goes to see the people, and 
keeping Martin still when Mrs. Cope comes — I think 
those are the hardest.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Mr. Gregg. “ I’ve known Mrs. Cope 


Felicia 


1 3 1 

all her life. She is a — rather an exacting neighbor, I 
imagine.’’ 

He and his little guest regarded each other with 
much gravity for a few seconds ; then Felicia covered 
her mouth with her handkerchief, and the hermit 
laughed outright. 

“But she is being very kind to me about my 
garden,” said Felicia earnestly, when the laugh was 
over. “ Truly she is, Mr. Gregg.” 

U I don’t doubt it,” was his answer, “and she has 
great success with flowers.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Felicia, “ and she says if I only 
take proper interest, mine will be a bower of beauty, 
Mr. Gregg ; those were her very own words.” 

“ That sounds very fine,” he said. 

“Yes, doesn’t it?” Felicia talked on delightedly, sure 
that her listener was interested. She told him of her 
mother and little baby John; of her grandmother and 
the grandfather whose death had so changed their 
lives ; of their old home in the noisy little manufactur- 
ing town, and last of all of the journey to Blackberry 
Hill, and kind Mrs. Topham, of Winifred, her new and 
intimate friend, and of Bobby Simpson. Just at the 
last she saw the hermit glance at the tall clock, ticking 
solemnly in its corner. 

“ Oh, I’ve talked too much,” said Felicia, starting 
from her seat. “I’ll go right out and sit on the door- 
step, Mr. Gregg, till Mr. Topham whistles for me.” 

“Ho,” said the hermit, “you have not talked too 


Felicia 


> 3 2 

much, but, do you know how to keep very still, 
Felicia ? There is something which I often see about 
this time of day — but perhaps ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir,” said the little girl earnestly, and she 
folded her hands and shut her lips close. 

“ Then come with me,” said Mr. Gregg, “ and do not 
speak a word, no matter what you see.” 

Felicia shook her head, her lips still tightly pursed. 
Then hand in hand she and her host went out of the 
house, and along a winding path that led toward the 
woods. It made a sudden turn, that brought them 
through a narrow clearing to the edge of a brook that 
came tumbling down a hill and ran clear and silent 
for a little way. There the hermit stopped. Felicia’s 
heart beat high, though she did not know what she 
was to see or hear. For a few moments all was 
silence. Then 

She held her breath, as there came a sound of 
trotting feet on the opposite side ; down through the 
trees to the very edge of the brook came a beautiful, 
soft-eyed deer, and close to it a little faun. The two 
watchers stood motionless, and the timid visitors 
looked across the little space startled, but not afraid. 

After a moment they drank, lifted their heads, then 
drank again, gave another shy, half-friendly look at 
the two figures that stood so quietly, and turning 
trotted off again. 

“Oh,” said Felicia, when she and the hermit were 
half-way up the path to the house, and she dared 


Felicia 


133 

speak. “ Oh, Mr. Gregg ! How could anybody ever 
hurt one of them ? They trusted us so ! ” 

“ There are plenty of people who would not care for 
that,” said the hermit sternly. “ The world is full of 
selfishness, thoughtlessness, careless cruelty ” 

“Oh, no,” said Felicia, her eyes full of tears, “no, 
Mr. Gregg ! Please don’t think that. Father says 
people make mistakes all the time — everybody does — 
but he thinks very, very few people mean to, and when 
they do, it’s because they’re sick, not with rheumatism 
or fevers, Mr. Gregg, but sick inside, in their hearts.” 

“ Did he tell you to preach that doctrine to me ? ” 
asked the hermit. 

Felicia looked at him with wide-open, sorrowful 
eyes. 

“ Father never tells me to say anything like that,” 
she answered simply. “ He was just explaining to me 
once when somebody — when my cat was poisoned — 
and I remembered.” 

“ That’s enough, child — I ought to have known as 
much,” said the hermit, and his voice was kind 
again. “ How we are going back to the house ; 
suppose you choose a book that you think your friend 
Bobby would like to read.” 

“ If you lend him a book,” said Felicia earnestly, 
“ he’ll be just as careful of it. Mrs. Topham says he 
is a very careful boy.” 

When at last the whistle sounded and Felicia said 
good-bye, and ran across the field to the waiting 


'34 


Felicia 


wagon, she held tightly clasped, three books ; two, 
with bright covers and many stirring pictures, were 
to be lent to Bobby Simpson. 

“ But this one,” said Felicia to Mr. Topham as they 
drove toward home, “see this one. It is a book of 
fairy stories, and once it belonged to Mr. Gregg’s 
daughter, and here is my name below hers. ‘ Felicia 
Lane ’ and 4 from her friend Silas Gregg.’ And he 
says that maybe he’ll come pretty soon on Sunday to 
hear father preach, and he asked me how the carpet 
looked, Mr. Topham.” 

There was a prolonged whistle from her companion. 
Then he reached over and pulled the linen covering 
closer and tucked it in at the side more carefully. 

“ Still kind of dampish in the late afternoon,” he 
said quietly. “ I think on the whole, little girl, you 
have done a good afternoon’s work.” 

Felicia looked up at him, puzzled. 

“ But it wasn’t work,” she said, “ it was just like 
play, visiting Mr. Gregg.” 

“ So ’twas,” assented Mr. Topham, “ and that’s the 
best part of it.” 


CHAPTER XV 


FELICIA HAS COMPANY 

The afternoon of the sewing circle was fair and 
warm, so warm that Miss Parks and Felicia set all the 
doors and windows open early, and let the sweet air 
of May fill the old house. 

“ There’s not a bit of a musty, stuffy smell to this 
house, if I do say it,” and Miss Parks, tired but 
triumphant, allowed Felicia to brush her hair and 
wind it softly about her head. 

She surveyed herself in Felicia’s little glass with 
considerable favor. 

“ You say that’s something the way you do your 
mother’s, when she’s tired ; ” she turned from side to 
side to get all points of view. “ Well, if Lydia Cope 
doesn’t land on me and say I’m trying to appear young, 
I guess I’ll do pretty well. I didn’t know I had so 
much hair ; that way takes a couple of inches off my 
forehead, too, and seems to give my features a change ; 
takes a little of the edge off ’em. You tie this ribbon 
bow for me, Felicia, and then I’m done. I’m sick of 
this old gray ribbon,” twitching it as she spoke. 

Felicia ran to her drawer and taking out a piece of 
delicate pink ribbon she slipped it under Miss Parks’ 
collar and deftly tied it in a loose bow. 

i35 


i 3 6 


Felicia 


“ There ! ” she cried. “ My ribbon’s pink, and 
yours is pink ! We’re almost like twins ! ” 

There was a faint tinge of color in the dull cheeks 
of Miss Parks as she turned away from the beguiling 
mirror. 

“ That’s enough of vanity for me,” she said firmly, 
“ but I haven’t got strength of mind to remove that 
ribbon after seeing it. Well, we’ve worked like 
twins, all day, side by side, haven’t we ? If there is 
considerable difference in our ages,” she added. 

“Yes, we have,” said Felicia happily, as they 
walked down the stairs, arm in arm, “and oh, Miss 
Parks, wasn’t it splendid for Mr. Gregg to invite 
father to go with Mr. Topham to see him this after- 
noon ? I suppose Mr. Gregg wouldn’t ever come to a 
sewing circle supper.” 

Miss Parks raised her hands and her eyes. 

“ He’d sooner step right into a bed o’ nettles from 
what I know of him,” she responded briefly. “ But you 
take Mr. Fosdick, he’ll be right in his element ; he’s no 
objection to talk nor yet to gossip, though I must admit 
there isn’t an ill-natured bone in his body. Here 
comes Lydia Cope, the front way, as I live and 
breathe ! ” 

“ I suppose we sew in the parlor,” said Mrs. Cope, 
after a hasty greeting. “ I’ve kept away for fear of 
interfering ; I’ve seen you in and out all the morning, 
Loreena.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Parks easily, “ I hardly even lit 


Felicia 


J 37 


on a chair long enough to eat my dinner. Felicia 
wants to have the sewing in the study, not the 
parlor.” 

“ On account of the light,” said Felicia hastily, as 
Mrs. Cope’s eyebrows drew together in her well- 
known frown. “Father has gone off for the after- 
noon, and he said he’d love to have us work in there, 
and Miss Markham sent her sewing-machine over this 
morning.” 

“ Yes, I saw it come,” said Mrs. Cope. “ I wonder 
if your father considered how we’d snip things over 
the floor, some of us that are careless cutters ” (she 
cast a glance at Miss Parks, whose chin was uplifted), 
“ and how the clearing up would keep him away from 
his writing for a good part of to-morrow morning.” 

“ I guess if I’m spared to get over here at the time 
I plan, he won’t be kept out of the room long,” said 
Miss Parks briskly. “ I can wield a broom with the 
best of ’em when I’m feeling as I do this spring.” 

“I judged you must be feeling — young,” said Mrs. 
Cope with emphasis, looking at the pink bow. 

“ I am,” and Miss Parks gazed courageously at her. 
“ Felicia, here come the Markhams.” 

Every one who came exclaimed with pleasure over 
the long, cheerful room, its windows aglow in the 
sunshine, the comfortable chairs which had been 
brought from all parts of the house, and the bowls 
filled with mayflowers, their fragrance scenting the 
room. 


Felicia 


138 

“ What did I tell you ? ” Mrs. Topham asked one of 
the other ladies. “ Didn’t I say Felicia would have 
the prettiest circle we ever attended ? And think of 
her putting my James up to whistling a couple of 
solos. I don’t know but he’ll make it three, he’s so 
pleased over it.” 

All the long afternoon the needles and tongues flew 
in company ; it would have been hard to tell which 
moved the faster. At six o’clock all the husbands 
had arrived, and with them came Mr. Fosdick, bearing 
a great paper bag which he handed to Felicia with a 
gallant bow v 

“ If you can find a dish to put that in, I think 
maybe it’ll get eaten,” he said. “ Candy Lem (that’s 
what we folks call him) came along just in the nick 
o’ time for once. I put in a few of all kinds, hoping 
to suit all tastes.” 

“ Oh, thank you ! ” said Felicia. “ I’ll put it in two 
dishes, Mr. Fosdick, one at each end of the party.” 

“ As you choose, ma’am,” said her guest, and 
settling his necktie, he proceeded to make himself 
agreeable to the company. 

There never had been such a supper before in the 
remembrance of the sewing circle. It was not only 
that every member had brought more than her share 
of good things to eat, or that the big table (spread in 
the parlor, to Mrs. Cope’s amazement) looked so pretty 
with its mayflower decorations. The parlor and 
dining-room were thrown into one for that night and 


Felicia 


!39 


it was easy to pass through from the kitchen ; every 
one but Mrs. Cope praised the arrangement. But be- 
side all this, Mr. Fosdick’s stories kept the roomful 
in good spirits, and others were reminded of stories 
and told them. 

“ I declare you’ll have to come to every supper af- 
ter this,” said Mrs. Topham to the guest of honor. 
“ Poor man, I presume likely ’tisn’t your fault you 
never married.” 

“ I never saw you till James had secured the 
prize,” said Mr. Fosdick dolefully, and everybody 
laughed. 

“Sho!” cried Mrs. Topham. “ Well, you wait till 
this supper’s over, and you’ll see why I made a good 
choice, if never before. It isn’t everybody that has 
talents like my husband.” 

When supper was over and cleared away, Felicia 
went to Mr. Topham, and after some urging he rose 
and stepped out into the hall. 

“Mr. Topham is going to whistle for us,” said 
Felicia to her father, “and he’d rather stand where 
he can’t be seen ; you tell them, please.” 

The minister’s announcement was received with 
great applause. Then the long, low study was very 
still as the company prepared to listen to the soloist. 

“ Seems as if it always sounded sweeter coming 
through the dark,” Mrs. Topham had said wistfully, 
so the minister had turned out the lights, and the 
listeners sat in the dusky room while out in the hall 


140 


Felicia 


the notes of an old-time song, with wonderful varia- 
tions and trills, were clearly and sweetly whistled. 

“ My, but that takes me back ! ” said Miss Parks, 
when the first tune was finished. “ I can hear a 
whistle ’most as plain as ever, and it does sound good.” 

44 Give us another,” called Mr. Fosdick, and there 
was a chorus of requests. 

“ I’ll do my best,” came Mr. Topham’s quiet voice 
from the dim hall. “ I’m going to do mother’s 
favorite now.” 

Felicia did not quite understand why so many of 
the company sniffed and used their handkerchiefs 
when this tune was finished. Mrs. Topham, close to 
whom she sat, wiped her eyes frankly, in the shelter- 
ing darkness. 

“ There’s something about 4 Believe me if all those 
endearing young charms,’ that goes to the spot and 
takes right hold,” she said, patting Felicia’s hand. 
“ Some day you’ll understand how ’tis, dear. ’Tisn’t 
that folks really feel bad, it’s just that things kind of 
come over ’em with a rush when they hear an old 
tune that’s connected with a good deal that’s hap- 
pened.” 

Mrs. Cope gave a long sigh. 

44 It’ll be a good many years before she comes to an 
understanding,” she said mournfully. 44 1 used to 
have wonderful talks with our former minister — I 
refer to Dr. Jarvis — about the power of music to 
bring up the past. And Mrs. Graham felt it too ; 


Felicia 


141 

we often spoke on the subject while her husband 
was with us. It seems appropriate for a minister’s 
family to understand the sad things of life.” 

“ Good land ! ” said Miss Parks in the tone of one 
exasperated beyond endurance. “ I can’t hear all you 
say, Lydia, but I catch enough of it to disagree with 
you, if you mean they ought to have more sorrow 
than comes to ordinary folks, beside living on small 
pay and trying to keep everybody in the parish satis- 
fied. I reckon they get discipline enough, first and 
last.” 

Felicia caught her breath and sat very still, but 
Mrs. Topham patted her hand again, reassuringly. 

“ I guess we’ve all had our troubles,” she said, be- 
fore Mrs. Cope could break the silence with a crisp 
reply, “ enough to want to save little Felicia here from 
having any that the Lord doesn’t send her, and the same 
with her father. James, you whistle ’em 6 Come lasses 
and lads,’ and then we’ll have to be thinking about 
home.” 

The gay little tune put everybody in good humor, 
and when it was ended and Mr. Topham came back 
into the room, and the lamps were lighted, there was 
another half hour of talk before anybody really 
started for home. 

“ Where’s Martin been all this time ? ” asked Mrs. 
Topham as Felicia helped her on with her coat. “ I 
declare we’ve had such a good time I never thought of 
him till this minute.” 


1+2 


Felicia 


“He’s been out in the shed ever since dinner,” whis- 
pered Felicia. “ I’ve been out two or three times to 
speak to him, and every time he called ‘ Help ! ’ when 
I came away, but Miss Loreena Parks says it is good 
for his disposition to be — to be — I think she said ‘ re- 
duced,’ once in a while, ‘ like other folks.’ ” 

“ You tell him for me that I’m coming over to have 
a good long conversation with him some day soon,” 
Mrs. Topham said, as she kissed Felicia good-night. 
“ I admire his powers, when he has free play.” 

“ I’ll tell him,” said Felicia, “ and he’ll be pleased.” 

All the guests, even Mrs. Cope, said it had been a 
very pleasant sewing circle. As for Mr. Fosdick, as 
he started down the path with Miss Tweedle on one 
arm and Miss Parks on the other, he swung the ladies 
around to face Felicia and her father, standing in the 
doorway. 

“ This,” he said, laying his hand on his heart, “ is an 
occasion, Miss Lane, that I shall never forget.” 

“ Here,” said Miss Parks, as Felicia’s laugh rang out, 
“are you trying to take Lucy Tweedle and me right 
off our feet, twisting round like that without a word 
o’ warning ? You have a care ! ” 

“ Good-night everybody ! ” cried Felicia joyfully. 
“ I’m so glad you all came, and had a good time.” 

“ Do you call that dignified talk to come from a 
parsonage doorway ? ” inquired Mrs. Cope of Miss 
Ellen Markham. “You and Mrs. Topham and some 
of the rest are spoiling that child fast as you can. 


Felicia 


J 43 

However, he was only called for a year, and I don’t 
know as I need feel responsible.” 

Miss Markham looked at her in silence for a mo- 
ment, as they walked along the road. 

“ The only thing I’m afraid of,” she said clearly, as 
they reached the parting of their ways, “ is that some 
of us may get rather jealous of some of the rest of us 
over that little girl, and make things so that her father 
(who’s the best preacher and one of the best men we’ve 
ever had in Blackberry Hill) will take her off to some 
other place where he’d have a better salary and a 
peaceful home for his wife to come to and leave us 
high and dry. Good-night.” 

“ Well now I wonder what she meant by that?” 
inquired Mrs. Cope of herself as she unlocked her front 
door. “ I call that a very strange way to talk, very ! ” 


CHAPTER XVI 


AN AFTERNOON WITH JENKINS 

One afternoon when the minister had driven off 
with Mr. Topham to make a call at a distant farm- 
house, Felicia sat on the kitchen porch, looking over 
at Mrs. Cope’s house with a pucker in her soft fore- 
head. Martin was sleeping in his cage ; there was no 
sound of wagon wheels ; everything was quiet in Black- 
berry Hill except the locusts ; they sang and made as 
much noise as they could, but they did not please 
Felicia. 

“ You sound just the way the sky looks,” she said 
to the hidden chorus, “ sizzly and hazy ; but there’s a 
little breeze coming up. I wish there was something 
to do. I’d go over to see Mrs. Cope if I thought she’d 
like to have me, but I guess she’s lying down, and she 
wasn’t so very pleasant this morning ; maybe ’twas be- 
cause the Hilliard boys were weeding for me, and she 
thought I ought to be doing it myself ; maybe ’twas 
because I’d forgotten to hang my dish-mop out in the 
sun. Oh, there’s Winifred! She must be coming 
here.” 

" I wouldn’t sit stocketty still, when I had a chance 
to go blackberrying and make some money toward a 
new church carpet ! ” called Winifred, over the wall. 

144 


Felicia 


>45 


“ Have you a good big pail, Felicia, as big as this ? ” 
and she held up a shining tin pail and swung it in the 
air. “ It holds eight quarts.” 

Yes, there’s one in the pantry,” said Felicia. 
“ Wait just a minute, Winifred, and I’ll get it, and my 
shade hat, and lock the door, and put the key behind 
the kitchen blind so father can get in, if he comes 
home first.” 

“ Where are we going ? ” she asked as they started 
down the hill, swinging their big pails. 

“ To the old Sawtell place,” said Winifred ; “ it’s 
part way on the road to the Tophams’, off to the 
right. Nobody lives there now, and Mr. Topham told 
me we might have all the berries we could pick, and 
I thought we could sell them to Mr. Wadleigh, for he 
told me his wife wanted some, and help about the 
church carpet. We could save out ten cents for candy, 
don’t you think we might ? Mr. Topham said so.” 

“ Yes, I do,” said Felicia promptly. “ And we 
could give some to your mother and my father. 
Doesn’t Mrs. Harlow like candy ? Father just loves 
some kinds.” 

“ You’d better not tell Mrs. Cope,” laughed Wini- 
fred. “ Probably Dr. Jarvis never ate a piece of it.” 

It did not take them long to reach the old Sawtell 
place, and the berries on the great bushes were the 
largest and sweetest Felicia had seen or tasted. She 
began to pick them from the first bush she saw, but 
Winifred stopped her. 


146 


Felicia 


“ Mr. Topham told me there’s a great thicket of 
them over toward the wall that separates this place 
from one of his pastures,” she said. 44 He told me it 
would be shady there, and we’d 4 get a breeze if there 
was one to be had,’ and not have to move around 
much. He was just as interested. I think he’s 
splendid ! ” 

44 So do I,” agreed Felicia, as they trudged up the 
gentle rise of the hill toward the wall of which Mr. 
Topham had spoken. 44 Why, isn’t there a break in 
that wall, Winifred ? Cows could come right through ; 
but then I’m getting well acquainted with cows, so I 
shouldn’t mind.” 

44 Of course not,” said Winifred, 44 and anyway there 
aren’t any to come through, even if that gap in the 
wall was big enough, and it isn’t, really. All the land 
we can see is Mr. Topham’s, and his cows are way 
over the other side of their farm. There ! now we’d 
better begin to pick. Why, Felicia, did you see some- 
thing run behind those bushes ? I thought I did, but 
maybe ’twas because I’ve been looking right at the sun, 
and my eyes are sort of blurry.” 

44 1 wasn’t looking that way,” said Felicia, her gaze 
following Winifred’s finger. 44 1 guess ’twas just your 
eyes, and the wind ; see how those bushes are blowing ; 
this is a pretty breezy place.” 

44 Yes, that must have been it,” said Winifred ; 44 let’s 
take off our hats, Felicia, we’ll be ever so much 
cooler.” 


Felicia 


1 47 

They picked steadily for half an hour, the berries 
dropping into the big pails, and gradually rising to- 
ward the brim. 

“They’re so big it won’t take us long,” said Wini- 
fred. “I eat one in eight, Felicia. How often do 
you ? Or haven’t you counted ? ” 

“I haven’t counted,” said Felicia, laughing, “ but I 
will now. Is your pail a quarter full, Winifred ? I 
think mine is.” 

“Just about.” Winifred shook the berries even, to 
make sure, before she answered. “ When we’ve done 
half, Felicia, let’s sit down and rest fora few minutes; 
mother always says that’s a gain in the end.” 

“ I suppose it is,” said Felicia, “ though I do hate to 
stop,” and she began to pick faster than ever ; “ I be- 
lieve I shan’t eat any more now, Winifred, till the pail’s 
half full, then I’ll eat a whole spray full, maybe, while 
we rest.” 

“ That’s just what I’ll do,” said Winifred, “ and it’s 
a good thing you thought of it. One in eight comes 
quite often.” 

J ust before the pails were half full, Felicia stopped, 
her head on one side, listening. 

“ Shouldn’t you think you heard a kind of munching 
sound, Winifred ? ” she asked. 

“ I can’t hear anything but my berries rattling into 
the pail,” said Winifred, “ only they don’t rattle any 
more; they just make a soft thuddy noise that shows 
how full the pail is getting. There ! mine’s a little 


148 


Felicia 


over the half ; you take this last handful, Felicia, and 
then we can both stop. Why, I believe I do hear 
something over there, behind those bushes. Let’s go 
around where we left our hats, before we hunt to see 
what it is ; the sun is pretty hot now, and the breeze 
has gone.” 

They walked around the big bush from which they 
had both been picking, to the pasture rock on which 
they had left their hats, first setting their pails in the 
shade of the bush. 

“ Why, Felicia Lane ! ” cried Winifred. “ Where are 
our hats ? ” 

“ They’re gone,” said Felicia, wide-eyed and breath- 
less. “ How could they ? But they have ! ” 

“ Listen ! ” said Winifred. “ There’s that munching 
noise again ! It comes from over behind that low bush. 
Come, Felicia.” 

“ Let’s take hold of hands,” said Felicia, “ and then 
scare it, whatever it is.” 

They stole on tiptoe to the bush from behind which 
the sound came, and then 

“Jenkins!” cried the two little girls together. 
“ Oh, you naughty goat ! ” 

Jenkins, a long rope hanging from his collar, 
Felicia’s hat in his mouth and the remains of Wini- 
fred’s at his feet, looked at them with gleaming eyes, 
and tore vigorously at the straw. 

“How in the world did you get loose, Jenkins?” 
asked Felicia, as if she thought the goat could answer 


Felicia 


149 


her if he chose ; “ you’ve come more than half a mile 
over the fields, dragging that rope ; and probably they 
are very anxious about you, at the Tophams’ ; at least 
they would be if they knew you had run away. 
They must be off somewhere. I know Mr. Topham 
is, and probably Mrs. Topham, who’s always so good to 
you, is away, too, and you just took your chance. I’m 
ashamed of you ! ” 

Jenkins tossed his head and tore with even greater 
pleasure than before at Felicia’s hat. Suddenly he 
tossed it away and started toward the two little girls, 
his head lowered and his eyes unpleasantly bright. 

“ Quick, before he butts us, Felicia ! ” cried Winifred, 
and the two children ran for dear life down the hill, 
forgetting their blackberries and everything except 
that they must keep out of the reach of the sharp horns 
if they possibly could. 

“ We’d better run around some of the bushes in- 
stead of going straight on,” cried Winifred as they 
flew along; “ perhaps he’ll get dizzy if we do that.” 

“ I don’t — believe — goats — ever— -get — dizzy,” gasped 
Felicia, but she ran obediently around the bushes as 
Winifred had suggested. 

“ If we can only reach those bars to the next 
pasture, we can crawl under them, and he can’t,” said 
Winifred as they ran through a narrow gap between 
some bushes, tearing their short skirts on the thorny 
branches. “ We’re almost there, Felicia. Now, let’s 
run our very fastest ! ” 


15 ° 


Felicia 


In another minute the two little girls lay, breath- 
less, half laughing, half crying, on the other side of the 
bars. A piece of Felicia’s skirt was between the goat’s 
teeth, but that was all he had been able to reach. He 
scraped his horns on the intervening wood, and made 
his disappointment evident, but just at that moment 
his attention was distracted by another sound. 

“ Hallo, what’s the matter ? ” called a voice the 
children knew, and through the gap in the bushes 
came Bobby’s sturdy figure. 

“ Oh, Bobby ! ” cried the two little girls. 

“ He’s eaten our hats ! ” said Winifred. 

“ And chased and chased us ! ” said Felicia. 

“ Here, you mean old goat ! ” cried Bobby, but at 
that Jenkins turned and ran, not toward the boy, but 
around the bushes, and up the hill again. 

“ I’ll catch you ! ” cried Bobby, and gave chase. 

There was a sound of running and hallooing for 
some minutes, then a loud rattling and bouncing noise 
— then silence — then : 

“He’s all right now!” called Bobby reassuringly. 
“ Come and see him ! ” 

“ But our berries are all spilled, I know, by the 
sound those tin pails made,” said Felicia as they started 
up the hill. 

Jenkins, with Bobby’s coat tied over his head, and 
securely fastened to a tree, was making a noise that 
plainly showed his feelings. 

“ He pulled up the little tree he was tied to,” said 


Felicia 


1 5 1 

Bobby. “ He’s been loosening it for the last two or 
three weeks, when we haven’t noticed. He’s an awfully 
smart goat. I’ll take him home soon as I get my 
breath. I’m sorry he scared you, and he’s spilled your 
berries and tramped on ’em, so I’m afraid they 
wouldn’t be worth picking up.” 

Winifred and Felicia looked at each other for a 
minute, and then they began to laugh, so long and 
merrily that Bobby joined them, though with rather 
a puzzled face. 

“ I’m glad you think it’s funny,” he said at last. 
“ I was afraid maybe you wouldn’t.” 

“ We were trying to make money for the new 
church carpet,” said Felicia, between her peals of 
laughter, “and now the berries are gone, and the pails 
are all dented ” 

“And our hats are eaten up,” said Winifred, “and 
our clothes are torn and — maybe mother won’t think 
it’s so very funny ! ” 

“ Maybe father won’t,” said Felicia, “ but he’ll say 
it wasn’t our fault.” 

“Ho, it truly wasn’t,” said Winifred, “ but perhaps 
we’d better go home now.” 

When they reached their homes, hatless, with 
ragged skirts and empty, battered pails, they were two 
disappointed little girls ; but the next day, when the 
torn skirts had been mended — Winifred’s by Mrs. 
Harlow, and Felicia’s by Miss Parks, who insisted 
that “ there was nothing she liked to get hold of 


152 Felicia 

better than a jagged tear ” — something delightful hap- 
pened. 

The little girls were sitting close together on the 
front door-step of the parsonage when Bobby drove 
up to the gate, and called to them as he stopped. 

“ Here’s a couple of packages Mr. Topham gave me 
to hand to you,” he said with his usual gravity. “ He 
was over at the Green Corners milliner’s this morn- 
ing,” he added, as he handed a large, rather flat pack- 
age to each of the little girls who had run out to the 
wagon. “ I must be getting home. Mr. Topham ’s 
going to trade off Jenkins with somebody, maybe, he 
says ; but Mrs. Topham thinks we’ll always have him, 
so I’m making a kind of a yard for him. Good- 
bye.” 

“ Good-bye ! ” called the two little girls ; and then 
they ran back to the steps to open their packages. 

“They’re exactly alike,” said Felicia as when the 
papers were taken off, two pretty straw sailor hats ap- 
peared, “ except that my ribbon is navy blue.” 

“ And mine is red,” said Winifred. “ And, oh, 
Felicia, there’s an envelope inside the lining of mine ! 
See ! ” 

“ So there is in mine,” said Felicia, “ and there’s 
something hard inside ; and it says ” 

“‘For the new church carpet from Jenkins — with 
ap-apologies, and regrets,’ ” read Winifred. “ And in- 
side there’s ” 

“ A bright, new fifty cent piece,” cried Felicia, as 


Felicia 


»53 

they tore open the two envelopes, and held up the 
shining coins. “ Oh, Winifred Harlow ! ” 

“Oh, Felicia Lane!” cried Winifred. “Let’s put 
our hats on, and go in to show them to your father, 
and then you walk home with me, and we’ll show 
them to mother ! ” 


CHAPTEK XVII 


THE HELPFUL BRIGADE 

That was a hot summer in Blackberry Hill, as Mrs. 
Cope had predicted, and the showers were frequent 
and quite severe. 

“ Do you think I’m any braver than I was, father ? ” 
asked Felicia as she sat close to him one evening, try- 
ing not to jump when the sharp pistol-like cracks of 
thunder came. “Seems to me I am, a little bit. But 
then I wasn’t the other day when you were away, 
and I was afraid you wouldn’t get home before the 
thunder came very near.” 

The minister stroked her hair with a gentle 
touch. 

“ It will take time, Felicia,” he said, “ but I really 
think you are a little braver. Listen, dear, the shower 
is rolling off now.” 

“ Oh, I’m so glad when they’re over, father,” she 
said contentedly. “ Do you suppose if everybody but 
me was away at Town Meeting or County Fair or 
something, and I saw the church struck by lightning, 
father, do you suppose I’d be like story book children, 
and without a thought of fear rush to the bell and 
sound the alarm ? ” 


iS4 


Felicia 




The minister turned his face away for a moment, 
but he answered his little daughter gravely when he 
spoke. 

“I think you are not the sort of child to let the 
church burn without trying to save it,” he said, “ even 
if you are not as brave as some of the little girls in 
story books. But we’ll hope the lightning will never 
strike the church, or anything in Blackberry Hill.” 

“It hasn’t, except trees, for years and years, 
Mrs. Topham says,” Felicia told him, “ but Mrs. Cope 
says there’s always a first time.” 

“ Mrs. Cope ” — began the minister, but he broke off 
his sentence with a laugh. “ I’d better put what I 
think in my sermon,” he added ; “ that is much the 
wiser way.” 

“ Oh, father,” said Felicia, with dancing eyes, “ it’s 
so funny the way people talk about your sermons. 
Miss Brown said to me that 4 there were folks in the 
congregation she hoped would profit by your words 
in regard to those who sometimes bear false witness 
unconsciously,’ and I thought it was because she had 
said the choir was jealous of her ancl ” 

The minister put his hand gently but firmly over 
Felicia’s mouth. 

“ You must not try to apply my sermons too 
closely, Felicia,” he said, “ unless there is something 
that seems to fit you.” 

He was smiling, but Felicia put her little head down 
on his hand and kissed it softly. 


156 Felicia 

“I’ll try not to,” she whispered, “only some- 
times ” 

“Yes, I know,” said the minister, “it’s rather hard 
for a little helpmate not to see and hear a good many 
things. How is your garden getting on, Felicia ? ” 

“It is almost ‘a bower of beauty’ now, father,” 
said Felicia; “ you’ve hardly seen it this last week on 
account of going to visit so many sick people and ex- 
changing with the Green Corners minister and every- 
thing, but Winifred thinks it is re-mark-able, father, 
and so does Mrs. Topham, and Bobby Simpson and the 
Hilliard boys say it is ‘ a grand sight.’ Think of that, 
father ! The boys have helped me ever so much with 
the weeds. Mrs. Cope says you could hardly call it 
my garden, so many have had a hand in it.” 

“ Ho matter whose garden it is, as long as it is a 
pleasure to you and other people,” said the minister. 

“I have a plan that I think will come true to- 
morrow, maybe,” said Felicia; “we’ll see.” 

Hext morning she was out in her garden early, 
with high rubbers on and her skirts tucked well out 
of reach of the wet grass, eagerly bending over her 
flowers. 

“ There are enough of the blue corn-flowers for 
every boy to have three for his buttonhole to wear to 
church to-morrow,” she said joyously to Martin, who 
had accompanied her in his cage, and was now taking 
the air from the front door-step. “Won’t they be 
proud, because they’ve all helped, six Hilliards and 


Felicia 


‘57 


Bobby — that’s seven boys, and the two French’s, be- 
cause they weeded one day — nine boys. I’ll ask fa- 
ther if he doesn’t think it would be fine. Martin, 
would you be afraid of cats if I left you here for a 
minute ? Nobody near us has anything but kittens.” 

“ What’s all this ? ” inquired Martin hoarsely, as 
Felicia was disappearing around the corner of the 
house. “ Paul Pry ! Paul ” 

“ Oh, Martin, do hush,” cried Felicia, hurrying back 
to him and throwing the skirt of her dress over his 
cage as she carried him to the kitchen. “ You’ve 
taken to saying that when you want me to stay with 
you, and it is very naughty of you ; don’t you know 
that ? ” she asked as she set the cage down on the 
kitchen table. 

The parrot looked at her with his head on one side 
and then held out his claw. 

“ Martin is a gentleman,” he said in his most en- 
gaging manner. “ Who are you ? Fe-licia ? ” 

The little girl laughed and let him hook his claw 
around her finger. 

“ I can’t help being fond of you, Martin,” she said, 
“ and you are all I have for a pet, and so you must 
behave just as well as you know how.” 

“Very well,” said Martin cheerfully. “Ye ry 
well.” 

“ Father, don’t you think it would be nice for me to 
give the boys, who have helped me in my garden, 
some of the corn-flowers to wear in their button- 


i 5 8 


Felicia 


holes ? ” Felicia asked her father at dinner. “Winifred 
and I thought of it, and she said it would make them 
like a ‘ helpful brigade ’ ; she read about one some- 
where, with a beautiful badge.” 

The minister’s mind was on the closing words of 
his sermon ; he was undecided as to just the best 
ending ; but he tried to bring his thoughts together 
and reply to Felicia’s question. 

“ Why, yes,” he said slowly, “ that seems a pretty 
idea ; a little recognition of kindness done — a part of 
the results of the summer’s work.” 

“ I thought you’d say so, and we’ll give them all to 
the boys this afternoon when they come by from the 
ball game over at Green Corners,” said Felicia 
happily. “ Bobby is to have the afternoon off and 
go with them.” 

It happened that Mrs. Cope had gone to spend the 
day, as she did once a month, with an old friend at 
Green Corners, and she had not returned when the 
wagon-load of merry boys stopped at the parsonage 
gate, hailed by Winifred. 

“ You’re all to have rewards of merit,” said Wini- 
fred, “ for belonging to the ‘ helpful brigade 9 of her 
garden — Felicia’s — she’s bringing them now.” 

u I thought there’d be three for each boy, but there 
are four,” said Felicia, as she handed the little 
bunches, carefully tied with string, to one boy after 
another. “I thought maybe you’d wear them .in 
your buttonholes to church to-morrow,” she added. 


Felicia 


l S 9 

“We will,” responded the nine boys in chorus, 
Bobby’s voice loudest of all. 

“ And I thank you very much,” called Felicia as 
the wagon drove off. 

“ You’re welcome,” came the chorus, and the boys 
waved their hats to the two little girls standing at the 
parsonage gate. 

“There’s a lovely pink rose for you, Winifred,” 
said Felicia, “ and here’s a little one for me, and I 
shall take that most beautiful one of all over to Mrs. 
Cope to-morrow morning. I’ve never seen her wear 
flowers, but maybe she would to-morrow, just 
specially ; or she could put it in a vase.” 

“I don’t believe she’d wear it,” said Winifred, 
“ but she couldn’t help thinking it was lovely, that 
great velvety rose.” 

“ No, I’m sure she couldn’t,” said Felicia, “ and 
I’ll take it over just before she starts for church, so 
I shan’t interrupt her dressing.” 

“ See what I’m taking over to Mrs. Cope,” she 
said to the minister the next morning, as she started 
with the great dewy rose ; “ I wanted her to have 
the best of all, because if she hadn't known just 
what to do and kept right at it, she says the bugs 
would have gotten the upper hand of us and eaten 
every bud — she’s told me that ever so many times, 
and I know it’s true.” 

“ That is surely a beautiful rose,” said the minister ; 
“I’m glad our neighbor is to have it,” so Felicia ran 


160 Felicia 

light-heartedly across the path and knocked on the 
door. 

Mrs. Cope had eaten something at her friend’s 
house which did not agree with her, and she was 
not in a cheerful or amiable frame of mind when she 
answered Felicia’s knock. She said “ good-morning ” 
in a chilly tone and looked inquiringly at her 
visitor. 

“ Here is my best rose,” said the little girl shyly, 
“ and I wanted you to have it, Mrs. Cope, because, of 
course, you are the head of the helpful brigade.” 

“ The head of what ? ” inquired Mrs. Cope coldly. 

“ Of the helpful brigade, like the one Winifred read 
about in a magazine,” said Felicia, “ and the boys are 
it.” 

“ I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Cope, “ but there’s 
no time now for explanations, as the bell is beginning 
to ring. You can tell me later. Thank you for the 
rose.” 

“ Would you — would you wear it to church ?” ven- 
tured Felicia. 

“ I never have done such a thing in my life.” Mrs. 
Cope looked at her reprovingly from the narrowing 
crack of the door ; “ church is not the place for orna- 
ments, to my mind.” 

“ Oh, dear,” thought Felicia, “ perhaps she won’t 
approve about the boys, but it’s too late now, and 
there’s father starting down the path for church, this 
minute.” 


Felicia 


161 

Mrs. Hilliard was away on one of her visits, and 
the mother of the two French boys was in bed with a 
heavy cold. There was nobody to criticise the ap- 
pearance of Felicia’s helpful brigade ; the two fathers 
had told them they looked well with the corn-flowers 
in their buttonholes. Bobby Simpson had kept his 
flowers carefully wrapped in a piece of damp news- 
paper until the Tophams’ horse was safely tied in the 
shed ; then he stuck the little nosegay in his coat and 
joined the other boys in the vestibule. 

“Let’s all go in together,” said Donald French; 
“ our pews are right across the aisle from each other, 
and Bobby, you sit with us to-day. Then we’ll look 
like a brigade. I guess that’ll please Felicia, and the 
minister will like it, too.” 

They marched up the aisle, and separated proudly 
in two divisions when they reached their pews. 
Donald French drew one of the Hilliard boys after 
him, to make the two sections of the brigade more 
even. The two fathers smiled at each other across 
the aisle, and Felicia and Winifred, when the con- 
gregation rose and faced about for the second hymn, 
thought every one must be as pleased as they. 

But when the service was over the two little girls 
were dismayed to see that Mrs. Cope’s face was 
flushed and angry. They saw her speak to Mr. Hil- 
liard and Mr. French, and then to Mr. Topham, 
after which she marched out of church without a 
glance at the minister or Felicia or any one else. 


162 


Felicia 


“Oh, Mrs. Topham,” Felicia said to her kind 
friend, who stopped to bid her good-morning. “ I’m 
afraid Mrs. Cope doesn’t like our helpful brigade, 
Winifred’s and mine.” 

Mrs. Topham hesitated for a moment, but meanwhile 
she held Felicia’s hand in her warm clasp. 

“ Maybe she didn’t quite understand about it, dearie,” 
said Mrs. Topham. “ Your father knew, didn’t he ? ” 

“ Oh, yes’m, I asked him,” said Felicia, “ and he was 
quite pleased that we’d thought of it.” 

“Well, never mind, it’ll all come right in the 
end,” her friend assured her, “ whatever Mrs. Cope 
thinks. You meant all right, and there’s no harm 
done.” 

“ Oh, thank you,” said Felicia gratefully, and Wini- 
fred thanked her, too. 

“ I guess maybe you’ll have to caution the minister 
a little bit, James,” said Mrs. Topham when she had 
her husband safely out of Bobby’s hearing that after- 
noon, and they had talked for a while. “ He’s a fine 
man, but he’s got to keep his feet on the earth if his 
head is way above it, while he’s in Blackberry Hill. I 
don’t believe he sensed exactly what that child asked 
him. What did you think when you saw those boys 
marching into church with those buttonhole bou- 
quets ? ” 

“I wished I was one of them,” said Mr. Topham, 
simply. 

His wife laid her hand on his. 


Felicia 


163 


“ I declare to it, men have a sensible way of looking 
at some things,” she said affectionately, “ and you are 
one of the most sensible of ’em all, if you do belong 
to me ! ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


MRS. COPE’S BEST CURTAINS 

The next week was the hottest of all that summer 
at Blackberry Hill, and little Felicia drooped under 
the sun that blazed down on her garden, and ripened 
the blackberries so fast that all the housewives took 
down their preserve jars from the shelf and set to 
work making jam. 

“ You’re about the only lady in this town that hasn’t 
run short of jars and applied to me for a few extra,” 
said Mr. Fosdick one morning to Felicia who had 
bought a yeast cake which had slipped her tired little 
head the night before. “ How does it happen ? 
Aren’t you putting up as much as usual ? ” 

Felicia laughed, but it seemed to Mr. Fosdick, listen- 
ing sharply, that the sound was not as merry as he had 
always thought it. 

“ I’m not putting up at all,” she said, “ for I don’t 
know how, Mr. Fosdick, though I’d like to, ever so 
much.” 

“ Well, aren’t there folks enough in the parish to 
show you ? ” demanded her friend. “ Where’s Mrs. 
Topham, and Loreena Parks and all the rest ? I sup- 
pose Mrs. Cope’s too busy to set foot in anybody’s 
kitchen but her own, these days.” 

164 


Felicia 


165 

It seemed to him that Felicia’s eyes bright- 
ened. 

“ Maybe that’s the reason she hasn’t been over,” 
she said. “ Mrs. Topham came for just a minute yes- 
terday, but she’s putting up for her children as well as 
herself, and she is just as busy ; and Miss Parks has one 
of her awful colds, the kind she gets in hot weather, 
she says, and there’s nothing to do but give right in 
and go to bed.” 

Mr. Fosdick nodded ; he was familiar with the dif- 
ferent varieties of Miss Loreena’s affliction. 

“ And the Markhams have company from the west,” 
Felicia went on, “so I haven’t seen them, and Wini- 
fred is away for a visit to a lady that’s seen her, going 
to and coming from the mountains every year, and 
invited her before, but Mrs. Harlow never felt well 
enough acquainted until this year. And Mrs. Harlow 
put up so much last summer she is just going to let 
the Fresh Air and Country W eek children have all the 
berries, and I’ve been down twice to hand up baskets 
we’d picked, to the train.” 

“I wish I knew how to tell you,” said Mr. Fosdick 
regretfully. “ Always seems easy enough — just a lit- 
tle boiling and a little squeezing and considerable 
sugar and there you are ! But I presume there’s more 
to it than appears.” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Felicia soberly. “I think I 
must go home now, Mr. Fosdick, though I’d rather 
stay in this shady store. It’s so hot outdoors. I have 


1 66 


Felicia 


to water my garden early and late, the way Mrs. Cope 
said I would. The flowers are so thirsty.” 

“ I wish you’d bring me a bunch of those corn- 
flowers some day,” the shopkeeper said as he bade her 
good-bye. “ I felt kind o’ left out when those boys 
came out so fine last Sunday. Didn’t I pull out a 
yard or two of pusley for you one evening when I 
stopped to see how you were getting on ? ” 

Felicia’s little face was clouded, and her cheeks 
burned. 

“ Mr. Fosdick,” she said slowly, “ father didn’t quite 
understand when I asked him about those buttonhole 
bouquets, or he would have advised me not to ask the 
boys to wear them, though he doesn’t think it was 
really any harm. But Mrs. Cope told me next day 
that a little girl should never be bold and give things 
to boys, especially if she’s living in a parsonage, and 
if I wanted to make a grateful return I should have 
filled a vase and given it to Mrs. Jordan to decorate 
the church. And she says it was a bad example to 
set, and : ” 

To Mr. Fosdick’s great dismay he saw that Felicia’s 
eyes were brimming over, and his heart was filled with 
indignation. 

“ I guess you couldn’t set any example to that 
James child,” he said briskly, “ and the only other girl 
is the Lambkin baby that can’t talk yet, so don’t you 
worry your little head over that. And as for being 
bold — why, if you’re bold, I — I — here, you wait a min- 


Felicia 


167 


ute, and sample this new kind of candy Lem brought 
yesterday,” and he hurried over to a tall glass jar, from 
which he took three long sticks wrapped in paper. 

“ I’ll be along this evening to see what you think of 
it,” he said pressing the sticks into Felicia’s hand, and 
giving it a good shake. “ If you approve, we’ll order 
more next time.” 

The little girl thanked him and went away. Mr. 
Fosdick watched her go, standing in the door, and 
when he turned again to the shop his eyes were snap- 
ping. He moved things about on the counter, and at 
last went over to the corner where there stood a 
couple of brooms and some gardening implements. 
These he shook and rattled for several minutes, mut- 
tering to them all the while. 

“ Why don’t you get into place ? ” he asked one of 
the innocent offenders, crossly. “ Do you think you’re 
making things any better by leaning over all lopsided 
that way ? ” 

He turned to the door at the sound of footsteps, to 
see Mr. Gregg entering the shop. 

“ Well, I declare I’m glad to see you,” he said 
heartily, forbearing to comment on the surprise it gave 
him to see the hermit in the village, at that time of 
day when he was likely to encounter any one. “A 
little friend of yours just went out.” 

“ I know,” said Mr. Gregg ; “you mean the minister’s 
little girl. I met her, and she looked troubled, 1 
thought. The last time she came to see me she was 


i68 


Felicia 


full of her gentle fun. I thought to-day she might be 
hurt because I’ve not yet been to church to hear her 
father. I mean to do it, soon, but it’s hard after these 
years to make up my mind. I’ve just been taking a 
look at the old church.” 

“ That’s not what’s troubling her,” said Mr. Fosdick. 
“ You sit down a minute and I’ll tell you.” 

“ The old story of the mischief one uncharitable per- 
son can make,” said Mr. Gregg, when he had heard all 
about the helpful brigade. “ It’s enough to discourage 
anybody.” 

“ I don’t look at it quite that way,” said Mr. Fosdick 
whose encounter with the brooms and hoes in the 
corner had greatly cheered him. “ If Lydia Cope had 
been asked to tie up those corn-flowers and parcel 
’em out to the boys and so on, she wouldn’t have seen 
anything out o’ the way in it, though she wouldn’t 
have marched ’em up the aisle just that style, maybe. 
But the point is, she’s fond of little Felicia, fonder of 
her than she’s ever been of anybody before in her 
lonesome, interfering, faultfinding life since her folks 
were taken away. She doesn’t know it yet — but 
others do — the Tophams and the Markhams and Lo- 
reena Parks — and I know it, too.” 

“ When do you think she will find it out ? ” in- 
quired Mr. Gregg drily. 

“ I’m not prepared to say,” replied the shopkeeper ; 
“ it’ll come with a thump, and shake her up some, but 
I’m looking forward to seeing Lydia Cope made over — 


Felicia 


169 


by degrees, of course — one of these days, to the rejoic- 
ing of all Blackberry Hill. The minister couldn’t 
make her over, good as he is, and he’s good as gold ; 
it’s the love that’s got hold of her in spite of herself 
that’ll soften her up. You’ll see ! ” 

It certainly did not seem as if Mrs. Cope were 
softening when she walked stiffly past the parsonage 
gate that afternoon without a glance at Felicia who 
was sitting on the front door-step, in the shade, with 
the book of fairy tales on her lap. When Mrs. Cope 
had gone well past the gate she paused and spoke over 
her shoulder. 

“ I’m going down to the station to talk over some 
matters with Mrs. Harlow,” she said coldly. “If 
that man from Green Corners brings over the bureau 
I’ve been expecting for a week, you can take my key 
from under the mat and let him in. He ought to 
come, such a clear day, and no sign of rain.” 

“ Yes’m,” said Felicia. “ I hope you’ll have a pleas- 
ant call,” to which Mrs. Cope, moving stiffly on, 
made no response. 

The minister had gone to Green Corners with Mr. 
Topham, and the house was still, for Martin slept in 
the sun on the study-table. The afternoon was so hot 
that Felicia grew drowsy and at last fell asleep over 
her book. She was awakened suddenly by the sound 
of thunder, a loud, crashing peal. For a moment she 
was bewildered and then she sprang to her feet. 

The storm had come up from behind the hills so 


Felicia 


170 

rapidly that no one was prepared for it. With a great, 
rushing wind it came, the branches of the elm trees 
tossing wildly, and the bushes bending low before it. 

Felicia ran into the house, which grew darker as the 
sky took on a dull purplish hue, and the sunshine fled. 
With fingers that trembled so she could scarcely move 
the old-fashioned catches that held the windows open, 
she shut one after another, up-stairs and down. 

“ We’ll go into your parlor, Martin,” she said to the 
parrot. “We can’t see much from there, and oh, 
Martin, do you think it would be foolish to pull down 
the curtain, and light a lamp ? Do you, Martin ? ” 

But Martin had his limitations, and at this time he 
had nothing whatever to say. 

“You aren’t afraid,” said Felicia. “You don’t 
know what it is to be afraid. Oh, I wish I didn’t ! 
Oh, Martin Lane, there are Mrs. Cope’s new bedroom 
curtains right out in the wind — her best ones ! She 
must have left that window open, and the screen’s 
fallen out. Oh, Martin ! ” 

“ Very well,” said the parrot sulkily. “ Yery well.” 

“ But it isn’t very well,” cried Felicia ; “ they’ll be 
torn and soaking wet, Martin ! And she cares more for 
those curtains than anything else ; she’s so proud of 
them.” 

There was another crashing peal and then a sudden 
lull of the wind ; Felicia knew what it meant. She 
had not spent the summer at Blackberry Hill without 
learning how the storms came. 



AT LAST IT GAVE WAY 
















Felicia 


171 


“ I must run now, Martin,” she said, catching her 
breath, “ now, this minute, before the wind starts 
again. I’ll shut the kitchen door tight, and if you 
don’t see me again till the shower’s over, you’ll know 
I’m on Mrs. Cope’s cellar stairs.” 

She ran across the kitchen, shutting the door tight 
as she went out on the porch. 

“ Oh ! ” she cried as she flew along the little path, 
after one glance at the sky. “ Oh, if only I could get 
there and home again ! Martin is so much better 
than nobody, if he is only a parrot. Oh, I wish there 
were another house with people in it, close by ! ” 

Half stumbling in her haste, though the path was 
worn smooth, she reached the door at last, found the 
key and, fitting it in the lock, opened the door. 
Through the house she ran, and reached the stairs. 
A blinding flash came as she ran up to Mrs. Cope’s 
bedchamber, from which the spotless curtains had 
flung their signal of distress. 

“ Oh, please come down, please come down,” said 
little Felicia as she tugged at the window catch, and 
at last it gave way and the window was shut. 

“ I’ve — I’ve done it,” said Felicia, half crying as 
she groped her way to the stairs; “now perhaps I can 
get home to Martin. I believe I can. Oh, I’d be so 
glad ! ” 

She was at the head of the stairs now, but the wind 
had come again, rushing against the house. She was 
more than half-way down when it seemed as if a ball 


17 2 


Felicia 


of fire danced before her eyes. With a frightened 
cry she slipped on the stairs and fell in a little heap 
on the floor. 

For a few minutes she did not hear or know any- 
thing; then she woke to hear the rain pounding on 
the roof and dashing on the windows, and to see the 
lightning and hear the peals of thunder. She tried 
to rise, but a sharp pain in her ankle kept her still. 
Slowly she raised herself until she was sitting up, with 
her back against the lowest stair. 

She sat there, looking through the open door of 
Mrs. Cope’s parlor. She could see the parsonage, 
with the background of dark sky — not purplish 
any longer, but a gray, with great waves and ridges 
of darker color. There was sharp lightning, and 
heavy peals of thunder followed the flashes, but little 
Felicia sat there watching the storm, and she was 
quite calm and unafraid. 

“ I’ve saved Mrs. Cope’s nice curtains,” she said to 
herself, as she looked over at the parsonage, “and 
the wind didn’t blow the house over, and I wasn’t 
struck by lightning, though I thought I was. It 
must have been a tree. And by and by it will clear, 
and father will come over here and carry me home, 
for I guess I’ve twisted my ankle so I can’t walk just 
yet. There ! that lightning and thunder aren’t very 
near together. And there’s blue sky coming. Oh, 
goody 1 ” 


CHAPTER XIX 


A BIT OF BLUE SKY 

It did not at first occur to little Felicia, sitting so 
quietly on the floor in Mrs. Cope’s front hall, watch- 
ing the clouds, that neither her father nor any one else 
would know where to find her. Even when she 
thought of it, she was not troubled, for she felt sure 
Mrs. Cope would come hurrying home as fast as 
possible, perhaps with a remembrance of the open 
window. 

Mrs. Cope had never passed a more disquieting and 
amazing afternoon than this one in which she had 
elected to call on Mrs. Harlow, and “ give her a piece 
of her mind.” 

“ For it’s that pert little Winifred who put Felicia 
up to giving those flowers to the boys,” said Mrs. 
Cope to herself as she walked down the hill ; “Felicia 
is a well-behaved child, on the whole, when there’s 
somebody to guide her.” 

An uneasy recollection of the wistful little face 
which had smiled at her, and the words she had left 
unanswered, made her twitch her shoulders. 

“ I couldn’t stop to talk, a hot day like this,” said 
Mrs. Cope, defending herself, “and it’s better she 
should realize that what she did wasn’t proper nor fit- 
173 


1 74 Felicia 

ting. I guess she’s beginning to see ’tvvas a mis- 
take.” 

To her amazement Mrs. Harlow did not express any 
pleasure at seeing her, though she offered her a com- 
fortable chair, and civilly invited her to take off her 
jacket. 

“ I’m glad to find you in,” said Mrs. Cope, in the 
language of polite society; but Mrs. Harlow had 
small patience with conventionalities. 

“ Didn’t you expect to find me ? ” she inquired, 
“ I’m still running this station business.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Cope, hastily. “ I meant I 
wanted particularly to see you — to speak about your 
adopted daughter — I refer to Winifred.” 

“ I supposed you did,” and Mrs. Harlow gazed 
steadily at her visitor. “ Well, what is it ? ” 

“ She — have you ” It was difficult for Mrs. 

Cope to go on, under that steady gaze, but at last she 
blurted out, “What did you think of that ‘helpful 
brigade ’ she and Felicia Lane had, marching into 
church last Sunday, before all the congregation, just 
like a — a — parade ? ” 

Mrs. Harlow looked at her for a moment more, and 
then she laughed, a good, clear, heart warming laugh. 

“ I don’t believe there was a man in that church 
but what wished he was young again, nor a woman 
either,” said Mrs. Harlow. 

She leaned forward and laid her hand on Mrs. 
Cope’s lap. 


Felicia 


>75 


“Lydia,” she said, still half laughing, “you and I 
were girls together in the old days. Do you recall 
such a thing as an old spelling-match when you and 
I were the heads, and your side won, and you gave 
every boy on it a piece of turkey-red, made into a 
bow, ribbon being scarce and high, and made him 
promise to wear it for a month ? Do you happen to 
recall that ? ” 

“ Good land ! ” said Mrs. Cope, uneasily. “ How in 
the world did you ever remember that? And any- 
way they didn’t make a show on Sunday in 
church.” 

“ No, they didn’t, because ’twas the first of the 
week you handed ’em out,” said Mrs. Harlow, “ and 
by Sunday they were all in rag-tags, same as boys’ 
things generally are — but they wore ’em out of sight, 
I’ve heard my brother Warren tell.” 

Mrs. Cope sat, looking weak and much confused, 
under this attack. 

“ Children will be children,” said Mrs. Harlow, lean- 
ing back in her chair, “ and if ever anybody succeeds 
in putting an old head on a child’s shoulders, he’s sure 
to be sorry for it, sooner or later. And you know 
there wasn’t a mite of harm in what Felicia did. I’ve 
been real tried with you this week, Lydia, hearing 
that you’ve been ’round making talk about it, raising a 
mountain where there was hardly a mole-hill. And I 
thought you liked that little girl and the minister, too ; 
such a good man as he is, calling on all the old people 


17 6 


Felicia 


in rain and shine, cheering up the doleful ones, and 
preaching such good sermons. My cousin writes me 
they are planning to give him a call to the Willowby 
Church, soon as his time here is up, and he may think 
it’s best to go. Felicia would have other children to 
play with there. Winifred would miss her, but maybe 
I could send her there to the academy, so they could 
see each other.” 

Mrs. Cope sat up in her chair, a strange expression 
on her face. 

“ I hadn’t heard anything about this,” she said in a 
strained voice. “ I thought they liked Blackberry 
Hill.” 

Mrs. Harlow rose and began to move the magazines 
on her table. 

“ It beats all how the cinders fly in and sift ’round,” 
she said. “ I don’t even know as the minister has 
heard any talk about it, but it would be a nice home 
for them, and a better salary, and most folks like 
peace better than a hornet’s nest.” 

“There are those that could add a little to the 
salary here,” said Mrs. Cope, still with the strange 
look on her face. 

“ Well, I presume it would be better for a little 
girl like Felicia to be in a different sort of place,” said 
Mrs. Harlow, her back to her guest. “ She and Wini- 
fred will do something else to make trouble, sure as 
they’re together so much. Her father might send her 
back to her Aunt Mary for the rest of this year, if I 


Felicia 


•77 


suggested it, or got Mrs. Topham to do it. Loreena 
Parks would keep the parsonage cleaned up, for 
Felicia’s sake, and I believe the Markhams would feed 
the minister for the same reason, apart from liking 
him. There are some of us that set a good deal by 
the minister’s little girl.” 

Mrs. Cope rose, her hands trembling as she put on 
her jacket. 

“ I guess there aren’t any of you that set by that 
child half as much as I do,” she said defiantly, a bright 
red spot flaming on each cheek-bone. “ You see her 
off and on when it suits your convenience, but I’m 
where she can call on me for what she needs any time 
of day, and we’ve worked together in that garden ; 
she isn’t one that keeps reminding you how old you 
are, or appears to get tired of your company ; and if 
you’ve got new curtains or anything, she takes an in- 
terest, same as if she was grown up.” 

“So she does,” admitted Mrs. Harlow, still with 
her back turned, “ but of course she needs training.” 

“ I don’t know that she does.” Mrs. Cope took up 
her little bag and moved toward the door. “ I guess 
she could get along all right till her mother comes ; 
the mother’s a very sensible woman, from her letters, 
and what Felicia tells me. You see,” Mrs. Cope was 
surprised at the warm feeling of her heart at her own 
words, “ you see, along at the first, Felicia said she 
and her father would like to be ‘ folks’ to me, as I’d 
lost mine, so of course I’ve always felt differently to- 


178 Felicia 

ward them from what I otherwise should. I’ll bid 
you good-afternoon.” 

“ There ! ” said Mrs. Harlow turning a joyful face to 
the window through which she could watch her de- 
parted guest, “ I believe I did that real well. I didn’t 
say they were going to Willowby — but I just put a few 
things in Lydia Cope’s mind. Poor soul, between her 
rheumatism and dyspepsia I don’t know as I hold her 
fully responsible all the time. Her back looks real 
old. My sakes ! if that isn’t thunder ! and the sky 
black as ink behind old Baldy ! Well, I never saw 
anything come up much faster than that. Lydia 
won’t get farther than the Markhams’. Ellen will be 
glad to get a chance at her. I guess Lydia’ll wish 
she’d stayed at home.” 

As Mrs. Cope toiled up the hill the wind took her 
breath away and wrapped her skirts about her so that 
she could scarcely walk. 

“ Mercy ! ” she gasped. “ It’s going to be a fearful 
storm, and there’s Felicia all alone in that house ! 
Dear me, I wish I could hurry ! ” 

When the lull came, while the clouds were rolling 
up and the frightened birds were twittering in the 
trees, she tried to hurry, but as Mrs. Harlow had pre- 
dicted, she had only reached the Markhams’ gate when 
the storm burst, and she turned, in response to a tap 
on the window, glad to seek the shelter of their house. 

“ I suppose poor little Felicia is snuggled close to 
her father, trying to be brave,” said Miss Ellen, as 


Felicia 


‘79 


they sat in the dim room, watching the storm. “ I do 
pity the little thing always when the showers come, 
if they’re heavy.” 

“ Her father isn’t home,” said Mrs. Cope with real 
anxiety in her voice. “ That’s why I was hurrying 
so. She’s all alone with that parrot.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry ! ” cried all the Markhams together. 

“ I wish I’d known it,” said Miss Ellen, “ I’d have run 
up the hill when that first big clap came. I hope she 
won’t be terribly frightened. Oh, that struck near ! ” 

For, as she spoke there came a blinding flash and a 
cracking peal almost together, so close that they all 
started to their feet. 

“ That must have been a tree right up the hill,” said 
Mrs. Markham. “ I could almost see where it went 
down.” 

“ Dear me, dear me ! ” groaned Mrs. Cope. “ I hope 
Felicia has a lamp lighted, so she can’t see the worst 
of it.” 

The Markhams exchanged glances, for Felicia’s fear 
of the storms had been the cause of much criticism 
from her neighbor ; but nobody expressed any sur- 
prise. 

“ There, I believe it’s holding up enough so I can 
go now, if you’ll lend me an umbrella,” Mrs. Cope said 
a few moments later. 

“ It’s pouring right down,” said Miss Ellen ; “you’ll 
hurt that good skirt.” 

“ There are other things beside skirts in this world, 


i8o 


Felicia 


Ellen Markham,” said Mrs. Cope. “ Will you lend me 
an umbrella, or shall I go without ? ” 

They all watched her as she went down the walk, 
and started up the hill, without a glance behind her. 

“ Letting her skirt drag in the wet,” said Mrs. 
Markham. “ I never saw her do such a thing before 
in all my life.” 

“ I’d love to have gone with her,” said Miss Ellen, 
“ but I thought she wouldn’t like it. My opinion is 
she wants Felicia all to herself for awhile.” 

It seemed to Mrs. Cope that her feet were like 
leaden weights, and that it was a day’s journey up the 
hill to the parsonage. As she neared the door she 
looked across and saw that the lightning had struck a 
great elm right before her house, and one of the limbs 
hung dangling from it. 

“I guess that would have scared anybody,” she 
muttered as she went up the path to the parsonage 
door. She tried it, but found it locked, and regardless 
of the long wet grass, she tramped around the house 
to the kitchen. 

“ Felicia ! ” she cried, as she opened the door. 
“ Here I am, child ! I came fast as ever I could ! 
Where are you ? Felicia ! ” 

There was no answer from the voice she expected 
to hear, but from the depths of Martin’s parlor his 
tones arose, loud and insistent. 

“ What’s all this ? ” he demanded. “ Who are you ? 
I’m Martin. What’s all this ? ” 


Felicia 


181 

Mrs. Cope hurried in to him and seizing his cage 
bore it out to the kitchen. 

“ You come out where there’s light enough for me 
to see you,” she said peremptorily. “ Now, Martin 
Lane, if you’re a smart bird, this is your time to prove 
it. Where is Felicia ? You tell me, right off this 
minute.” 

Martin looked at her with his head on one side. 
Then he turned slowly on his perch and gazed out of 
the window. 

“ Oh, I could shake you, if ’twould do any good,” 
cried poor Mrs. Cope. “ Where is she ? TelLme, like 
a good bird. Nice Martin.” 

The parrot turned his head to look at her, and then 
again he gazed out of the window. 

‘•My senses alive ! Do you suppose he means she 
went over to my house ? ” inquired Mrs. Cope of the 
silence. “ Anyway, I might as well go and see. If 
she’s there, Martin, I’ll never say another word against 
you. YY>u can bear that in mind, and recall it to me, 
any time I forget.” 

“ Martin is a gentleman,” croaked the parrot 
as she shut the kitchen door, and hurried across 
the path, forgetting the umbrella in her haste to be 
gone. 

“ Here’s my key in the door,” she cried as she 
reached her kitchen. “ Probably the poor little thing 
ran to my cellar stairs, thinking ’twas the safest place, 
if she came over to let that bureau man in; but 


iSz 


Felicia 


where’d he go ? There’s no horse in the shed. 
Felicia ! Felicia ! Here lam!” 

“ Yes’m,” called the clear little voice from the front 
hall. “ I’m sitting here, Mrs. Cope, because I fell and 
twisted my foot when that big crash came, and it 
hurts. But I shut the window before your beautiful 
curtains got wet. I knew you’d care most particularly 
about them, and the screen fell out, and I saw them 
blowing. I knew you’d hurry home if } r ou remem- 
bered. And I wasn’t frightened except just at first, 
Mrs. Cope, truly — maybe I’ve outgrown it, all at 
once.” 

Mrs. Cope sat down on the floor close beside Felicia, 
and put her arms around her. 

“ With my rheumatism I don’t know as I can ever 
get up,” she said a little later, when she and Felicia 
had talked over a good many things and were better 
• friends than ever before, “ but I don’t care. If I’ve 
been the kind of woman that would be expected to 
think of lace curtains sooner than neighbors, the 
floor’s about the place for me.” 

Felicia took Mrs. Cope’s thin, hard-working hand in 
both her little soft ones, and held it tight. 

“ We’ll sit here together till father comes to help us 
both, Mrs. Cope,” said Felicia. “Just see, there’s the 
blue place in the sky growing bigger and bigger. 
Won’t our flowers be happy — yours and mine ? ” 

“ They will so,” Mrs. Cope agreed, “ but I can’t sit 
here, Felicia. I’ll clutch the stair-rail so — there, ouch ! 


Felicia 


>83 

I’m up all right. Now you let me set you in the big 
chair, and look at your foot, and then I’ll step across 
and tell your father.” 

She lifted Felicia as if she had been only a feather 
weight and carried her into the parlor. Very gently 
she took off the shoe and stocking, though Felicia 
could not help a little exclamation of pain at her 
touch. 

“ I don’t think there’s anything broken,” said Mrs. 
Cope, “ but you’ve given it a bad wrench, and you’ll 
have to keep off it for days. I’ll have your father go 
to Fosdick’s and telephone over to Green Corners to 
have the doctor come and take a look at your foot.” 

She spoke with much cheerfulness, but Felicia gave 
a cry of dismay. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Cope,” she said, “ doctors cost money, 
and how will father get on if I have to keep still ? ” 

“ Aren’t you two my folks ? ” inquired Mrs. Cope, 
smiling down at her almost as Mrs. Topham would 
have smiled. “ If we can’t do for our own folks it’s a 
pity. You’ll stay right here in my best spare cham- 
ber, and your father will come right over here for 
his meals. I’ll be glad to have some company. 

“ And there’s another thing,” she turned back to 
say, after starting for the door, “ I’d like to have Mar- 
tin come every day ; I have a nice sunny porch where 
he could enjoy himself.” 

She stopped, and flushed at the wonder in the little 
girl’s eyes. 


184 


Felicia 


“ You needn’t be scared for fear I’m going to die,” 
she said with a short laugh. “ I shall have my cross 
spells, Felicia, but just now I’m pleased to pieces to 
have somebody to look after, and I think maybe I 
shan’t ever be quite so hard to get on with, after to- 
day. As for that bird, I sort of think I’ve done him 
an injustice. There’s the Topham wagon now.” 

She marched out of the house and across the path. 
Felicia leaned back in the big chair, smiling, although 
her foot ached. 

“ I believe she’ll think I’m enough of a fit helpmate, 
after all, till mother comes,” she said to herself. “ I 
guess this was a pretty fortunate day for you, Felicia 
Lane.” 


CHAPTER XX 


NO PLACE LIKE HOME 

One lovely evening in September Felicia and Wini 
fred sat close together on the porch outside the par- 
sonage kitchen, looking across the moonlit path to 
Mrs. Cope’s back door. 

“ She said she’d ring for us when she was ready,” 
said Winifred impatiently, “ but doesn’t it seem a long 
time to you, Felicia ? I’m afraid before we’ve finished 
making the candy mother will come for me to go 
home. Wasn’t it nice the new expressman offered to 
look out for the station, so long as there wouldn’t be 
any train to stop, and let mother go to the Tophams’ 
for tea. She was just as excited ! ” 

“It was splendid,” said Felicia. “ And Mrs. Cope 
asking father over there, left us all by ourselves for 
supper, and haven’t we had fun ? ” 

“ We’ve had a perfectly beautiful time,” said Wini- 
fred, “ and so have Martin and Dinah Doorstop. I 
wish I’d brought my Dinah, too.” 

“I wish you had,” said Felicia. “ Oh, Winifred 
just think how much has happened, and how different 
everything is from what we were afraid it would be.” 

“ Most of the very importantest things happened, 

185 


i86 


Felicia 


while I was away,” said Winifred ; “ that was pretty 
disappointing to me at first, but I’ve about got over it 
now. There was the thunder-storm, and your foot, 
and the visit at Mrs. Cope’s, and the hermit’s going to 
church.” 

“ Only he isn’t a hermit exactly,” murmured Felicia. 

“No, so he isn’t,” admitted Winifred. “ And then 
Mrs. Cope’s getting people to put their hands right in 
their pockets — that’s what mother calls it — to make 
your father’s salary bigger so you can have Miss 
Loreena part of every day when she’s able to come, 
and pay her so that she’ll feel independent. And then 
Mr. Gregg’s offering to give a new carpet and pew 
cushions. to the church. Mother says these are the 
most prosperous times she ever knew ! ” 

44 And Mrs. Cope is so different,” said Felicia ; “of 
course she likes to know about everything, but she’s so 
pleasant you’d just as soon tell her. Mrs. Topham 
says 4 it takes folks that have held on hard to let go 
the same way.’ I don’t know just what she means, 
but I do a little.” 

Winifred nodded violently. 

“ Mother told me we mustn’t take advantage,” she 
said, 44 for Mrs. Cope is so anxious to be pleasant she’d 
almost let us run right over her, mother thinks.” 

44 But we wouldn’t ever, would we?” said Felicia. 
44 Listen, Winifred, isn’t that her door opening ? Yes, 
and there’s the bell. Come, let’s run ! ” 

44 1 wish I had somebody to ring back and forth 


Felicia 187 

with, like this,” said Winifred, as they ran. “ I think 
it’s fun.” 

“But you have the whistles and puffings and all 
those train noises, and Mr. Wadleigh to wave from 
the steps,” Felicia reminded her. 

“ Yes, so we do,” assented Winifred. “ We are both 
very well off, and I won’t envy you, Felicia, no matter 
what happens.” 

“Here, you little whirlwind,” cried Mrs. Cope, 
catching Winifred as she danced over the kitchen 
door-sill, “ I want you two children to hunt for that 
candy receipt ; ’twas in one of these five receipt books, 
on a loose slip of paper. You open every leaf out 
wide to make sure. Must you be going, Mr. Lane ? ” 
as the minister went toward the door. 

She followed him out on the step and closed the 
door after her. They talked together for a moment, 
and the children heard them both laugh. 

“ Found it yet ? ” asked Mrs. Cope as she entered 
the kitchen again. 

“No’rn,” said Felicia, and Winifred who was turn- 
ing leaves as fast as she possibly could, gave an im- 
patient sigh. 

“ Couldn’t we make some other kind to-night ? ” she 
begged. “ I’m so afraid mother’ll come for me.” 

“ I’ll see to that,” said Mrs. Cope ; “ she won’t come 
for you yet awhile. You keep hunting.” 

The children had never seen Mrs. Cope as restless 
as she was that night. She would take up one of the 


i88 


Felicia 


receipt books and turn the leaves, drop the book and 
go to the window, pulling the curtain up and down 
in a nervous way. Then she would go to the door, 
open it, and several times she closed it after her, and 
the children thought they heard her talking in a low 
voice. 

“ There are ever so many wagons and people out 
to-night,” said Winifred one of the times when 
Mrs. Cope had gone from the kitchen. “ Haven’t 
you noticed it, Felicia ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Felicia, “ I have. I guess it’s because the 
moonlight is so beautiful. Winifred, I don’t believe 
that receipt is anywhere in these books.” 

“Nor I,” said Winifred. “It must be lost. Well, 
never mind.” 

“Come, children,” cried Mrs. Cope, throwing the 
door wide open, “ there’s somebody over at the par- 
sonage, and the minister wants you both right away. 
Wait! I’ll come with you.” 

She locked the door, and then with Felicia on one 
side, and Winifred on the other, holding her hands, 
she hurried them along the path. 

“ Why, look how bright it is everywhere ! ” cried 
Winifred. “ Every lamp in your house must be 
lighted.” 

“ Yes,” said Felicia, dancing with excitement. 
“ Oh, it looks like a party, Winifred. It does look 
just like a party ! ” 

“ And it is a party,” said Mrs. Cope, as she bore her 


Felicia 


189 


two charges triumphantly over the threshold of the 
parsonage kitchen, where Mrs. Topham and Miss Parks 
stood with Mrs. Harlow. 

“ So ’tis,” said Mrs. Topham, taking Felicia in her 
motherly arms, while Mrs. Harlow straightened out 
Winifred’s hair ribbon, and kissed her. “You take a 
look into the study, Felicia.” 

The study was full of people ; everybody in Black- 
berry Hill was there, it seemed to Felicia; even 
Mr. Gregg stood talking to her father. She paused 
for a moment, but Mr. Fosdick stepped forward and 
drew her into the middle of the room. There was a 
hush, and the color flamed in Felicia’s cheeks. She 
wondered what was coming next. 

“ It came to our ears in a roundabout way,” said 
Mr. Fosdick, “ that the pleasant occasion which we 
enjoyed here one afternoon and evening last May, was 
the birthday of the young lady whose hand I am now 
proud to hold. And as we didn’t know it at that 
time, it seemed best to celebrate it at the first good 
opportunity, when our outdoor season of work was 
about over, and before the cold weather housed some 
of us.” 

“ Hear ! Hear ! ” cried a chorus of boys’ voices 
from the hall. 

“ So we are met together,” said Mr. Fosdick, “ we 
are met together — we — I’ve forgotten just what I’d 
planned to say, but we want to give the minister’s 
little girl as good a time as she gave us — that’s what 


Felicia 


1QO 

we’re here for. And to remind her that she can’t 
cheat us about her birthday when next year comes 
around.” 

Felicia stood wide-eyed and flushed in the centre of 
the room. There was something she wanted to say, 
and she said it, looking up at Mr. Fosdick after a mo- 
ment’s catching of her breath. 

“ Oh, I do thank everybody so much,” she said 
eagerly, “and if you want father and me to stay in 
Blackberry Hill, if you think I’m enough of a fit help- 
mate, till mother gets well ! ” 

Mrs. Cope, with an air of great importance, whis- 
pered a few words in Mr. Topham’s ear, and then spoke 
to one of the other men, who nodded and waved his 
hand toward Mr. Topham. 

“The committee of the church met together one 
evening last week,” said Mr. Topham, deliberately, 
moving a little out of the group in which he had been 
standing, “ and we have since then ascertained that 
each and every member of the church is in sympathy 
with the motion suggested at that time. I am re- 
quested to say that the paper which I now hand to 
Mr. Lane is a call from the Blackberry Hill Church to 
our present minister to extend his stay with us for a 
period of five years, at least.” 

“ I can only say,” the minister responded as he took 
the paper, “ that it gives me the greatest pleasure and 
satisfaction to think the people of Blackberry Hill 
wish me to stay.” 


Felicia 


191 

He stopped for a moment, and Mrs. Cope spoke up 
briskly. 

“We thought it might be comfortable for you to 
know just what to expect for a few years,” she said ; 
“ you don’t have to answer right off. More than likely 
you will have other opportunities, and there are draw- 
backs here, of course ; ” she looked wistfully at the 
minister. 44 I shall be away more or less,” she added, 
with a little suggestion of stiffness in her tone. 

Felicia crossed the room and slipped her hand in 
Mrs. Cope’s. 

“ I’d miss you every day,” she said earnestly ; 
44 please don’t go ; and father, may I tell them what 
Martin said this afternoon ? They all know him.” 

“ Yes,” said the minister, 44 I think they would be 
glad to hear it.” 

44 He said, 4 There’s no place like home,’ ” said 
Felicia, “ over and over. He’s heard father and me 
say it ever so many times this summer, and I think 
perhaps he knew it would please us if he learned it.” 

“ Suppose you have that bird out,” suggested Mrs. 
Cope. 44 1 enjoy his conversation, since I got well ac- 
quainted with him during your visit.” 

Martin was brought out and looked inquiringly at 
all the guests, but not Felicia or even Winifred, his 
special admirer, could coax him to say a word. His 
bright eyes followed one and another of the company 
during the evening. When Mr. Topham whistled he 
sat with his head cocked, listening attentively, but 


192 


Felicia 


was still silent. It was not until the happy evening 
was over, the last guest departed, and the minister and 
his little girl stood alone before the study fire that 
Martin spoke. 

“ There’s no place like home,” he said with startling 
clearness ; “ there’s no place like home.” 

“ And that means Blackberry Hill now,” said Mr. 
Lane smiling down at the minister’s little girl. 

“ That means Blackberry Hill, and I’m so glad it 
does,” said Felicia. 


THE END 








































































































































































































































































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